Nightfang Potter and the Cavern of Secrets
by Warrior Cat Cody
Summary: When the Cavern of Secrets is opened at the Forest, young apprentice Nightpaw Potter finds himself in danger from a dark evil that has been released once again into the school. Book/Movie X-Over. Rated T for blood, language, and violence. Complete!
1. The Worst Birthday Ever

**AvatarCat11: I'm finally going to update Book 2 of the Nightfang series! Now I'm gonna update the first chapter. But I don't know about posting up the new chapter sometime soon because FanFiction hasn't been letting me update my stories or even edit them.**

**Harry: I'm gonna hate this year since the incident of being Slytherin's heir. But it was really...**

**Ron: (Clamps his hand over his mouth) Don't spoil the story! But I'm sure that your fans will know who it is.**

**Hermione: Can we get this started soon? And can we let Harry say the disclaimer and the summary for the story?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure.**

**Harry: Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: Everyone should already know that AvatarCat11 doesn't own my own series or Warrior Cats.**

**Summary: After a horrible greenleaf with the Dursley cats, Nightpaw Potter wants to desperately get back to the Forest, School of Warriorism. But when he's ready to leave, a small strange animal named Bobby had come to warn him that disaster will strike if he goes back to the Forest.**

**And disaster does strike. In Nightpaw's second year, he has to come face-to-face with a self-centered cat named Gloryhound Lockhart, a depressed ghost named Moaning Turtleneck, and the unwanted attention towards Redpaw's little sister, Leafpaw.**

**But the real danger comes when cats are starting to turn to stone, and someone is behind this. Can it be Icepaw Malfoy, who is a more menacing opponent than ever? Can it be Badgerstripe Hagrid, whose past is finally revealed? Or is it the cat that everyone least expects...**_**Nightpaw himself?**_

**Updating date: March 31, 2011**

**Everyone in the room: Enjoy Nightfang and the Cavern of Secrets! (They sit in their chairs with refreshments as they look at the screen.)**

**...**

_The Worst Birthday Ever_

In a medium-sized house in southern Alaska, a young black cat was sitting on the windowsill of his room as he looked into a photo album with moving pictures. This cat was Nightpaw Potter, a young orphaned cat, and he was looking at a picture that he got last year. One picture was of him as a kitten, his ginger-furred mother Lilypelt, and his black-pelted father Darkfire; the other was of him with his two best friends: American Shorthair Redpaw and Angora mix Fawnpaw.

A loud screech behind him made him turn around to see his Barn Owl/Snowy Owl mix, Katara, frantically beat her wings against the bars of her cage.

"I'm sorry, Katara, but I can't let you out right now. You know that's locked."

Katara gave an offended screech and beat her wings against the cage bars again.

The young tomcat sighed and tried to explain. "Look, I can't even use magic outside of school. So if Uncle Bristle hears you..."

"SNOWY POTTER!"

Nightpaw shut his photo album, leaped down from the windowsill, and glared at Katara. "Now you've done it," he snapped before padding downstairs.

When he got downstairs and to the kitchen, the first creature that greeted him was Daniel, his Twoleg owner, as he patted him on the head before setting down a bowl of cat food onto the floor in front of him. Nightpaw realized that kittypet food didn't taste that good now because he had a chance to eat some prey; despite that, the kittypet food was okay.

But the next creature that greeted him was even less welcoming to him than Daniel: Bristle, his British Shorthair uncle. The fat gray tom was leering at him through narrowed eyes as he ate his kittypet food.

"I'm warning you now, boy," he growled at his nephew. "If you can't control that crazy bird, it'll have to go."

"But Katara's bored," Nightpaw sighed as he tried yet again to explain. "I haven't had any letters from my friends. Not one. If I just let her out once since she's used to flying around..."

"Who'd want to be friends with you?" his fat gray cousin, Tubby, sneered as he waddled over to them. He roughly pushed Nightpaw aside, went up to a stool, filched some bacon from the frying pan, and started eating like a pig.

But Bristle ignored him and sneered at him (with some cat food stuck to his face), "You think I'm that stupid? I should think you would be a little more thankful. We've raised you since you were a kitten, given you our food from the cat bowls...even let you have Tubby's second room, just out of the goodness of our hearts."

Nightpaw snorted. _Not likely,_ he thought.

"Besides, I think _I'll_ know what will happen to that bird if it's let out and wakes us up again!" At this, he turned around to exchange a dark look with Tulip, his skinny gray mate.

Nightpaw was about to complain some more, but he never got the chance because he was rudely interrupted by a loud rude burp from Tubby. The gray kittypet was busy stealing extra slices of bacon from the frying pan, but Nightpaw thought that his parents were stealing it from Daniel for him.

"I want more bacon!"

_Why? He's gonna turn into a cannibal if he eats more, _the fat cat's cousin sneered to himself.

Tulip turned her yellow eyes to her overweight son and purred, "There's some more in Daniel's frying pan if you want more. We must feed you up while we have the chance. I don't like the idea about giving that trash food from the obedience school."

"Nonsense, Tulip," Bristle purred to her heartily. "I haven't starved one bit while I myself was at Meltings. Tubby get enough food all right. Right, son?"

Tubby, who was so fat that the stool beneath him was fixing to break since he was eating at the table, gave his parents a smirk before turning to face Nightpaw. "Pass the bacon."

"You forgot the magic word," Nightpaw snapped back sharply. He had been infuriated at Bristle insisting on keeping Katara locked in her cage.

The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Tubby yelped and fell off his stool with a crash that shook the cats' food bowls, Daniel just gave him a weird look as if he threw up, Tulip gave a small shriek and lashed her tail around frantically, and Bristle jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples and his yellow eyes filled with rage.

_Gee... it was just a word._

"I didn't mean that! I meant to say 'please'!" Nightpaw meowed quickly. "I didn't mean..."

But Bristle was already screeching at him while he foamed at the mouth, "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU, BOY, ABOUT SAYING THAT 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

Nightpaw tried to defend himself. "It's just a..."

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN TUBBY LIKE THAT!" Bristle roared, reaching for a napkin and scratching it to bits. Nightpaw, meanwhile, was thinking, _How'd I threaten the fat idiot?_

"But I just..."

"I WARNED YOU ALREADY, BOY! I WILL NOT PUT UP WITH ANY MENTION OF YOUR FREAKISH NATURE IN THIS HOUSE!"

Nightpaw's fur was fluffed out for defense but all that he did was just look from his angry uncle to his scared-looking aunt, who was helping Tubby up, and over to Daniel, who was giving Bristle an angry look. He was the Twoleg that made sure his fourth orphaned cat was treated like an equal.

So he just growled, "Fine. I get it already!"

And Nightpaw backed away from his uncle, who was watching him through narrowed yellow eyes, and he went back to his breakfast.

Ever since Nightpaw returned to Daniel's house for greenleaf vacation, Uncle Bristle had treated him like a rattlesnake that was going to bite. It was because Nightpaw wasn't a normal cat; in fact, he was never normal. Nightpaw Potter was a warrior cat, a warrior fresh from his first year at the Forest, School of Warriorism. And if the Dursley cats were unhappy to have him back for greenleaf, it was nothing to how Nightpaw felt. But only Daniel was happy to have him back, for he had received a letter from the Forest and heard of everything that his own cat went through.

He missed the Forest so much it was like having constant heartburn. He missed the castle on the island, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though not Brokenfang, the Potions mentor), the mail arriving by owl, eating feasts in the Great Hall, sleeping in his nest in the tower dormitory, visiting Badgerstripe (the gamekeeper) in his hut next to the Forbidden Swamp in the grounds, and AirBall the most, the most popular sport in the warrior world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players with wings).

All of Nightpaw's schoolbooks, his tail-wand, cape, pot, and amazing Icarus Three Thousand wings had been locked in a cage in the closet by Bristle as soon as Nightpaw came home. Why would the Dursley cats care if Nightpaw lost his place on the Clan AirBall team because of no practice over greenleaf? Why would they care if Nightpaw went back to school without any homework done?

The Dursley cats were what warriors called kittypets (not a drop of warrior blood in their veins), and as far as they knew, having a warrior in the family was considered very shameful. It was Bristle who had locked Katara inside her cage so that she wouldn't carry messages to anyone in the warrior world.

Nightpaw looked nothing like the rest of the family. Daniel was just a Twoleg scientist who dealt with animals, Bristle was a gray-furred (bristly) flat-faced heavy British Shorthair, Tulip was a gray-furred flat-faced bony British Shorthair, and Tubby was a gray-furred flat faced overweight British Shorthair; all three had yellow eyes. Nightpaw, on the other paw, was a Maine Coon and British Shorthair mix with long jet-black fur, large paws, a tall figure, and bright green eyes. But the strangest thing about him was a white lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.

It was this scar that made Nightpaw so odd, even for a warrior cat. This scar was the only clue of the black cat's mysterious past and the reason he was left on the Dursley cats' doorstep eleven years ago.

At the age of one, for some reason, Nightpaw had endured an attack from the most vicious Dark Bear of all time: Red Helmet, whose name most warriors were still scared to speak. Nightpaw's parents were killed by him, but it was Nightpaw who escaped with his scar, and somehow, oddly, the bear's powers were destroyed the moment he failed to kill him. So the black tom was raised by his dead mother's sister and her owner. He spent ten bad years with them, never knowing why he kept making strange things occur without meaning to; he had believed the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar when his parents were run over by a monster.

But then, just a year ago, the Forest had written to Nightpaw and the whole story had finally come out. The Maine Coon mix had taken up his place at a warrior cat school, where he and his scar were famous...but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursley cats for greenleaf, back to being treated like a rat that fell into a dirty toilet and out again. But Daniel had been trying his best to make him feel welcome at home.

But the Dursley cats didn't even remember that today was Nightpaw's twelfth birthday. Surely, his hopes weren't high; they didn't give him a real present or even a cake... But just to ignore it totally...

At that moment, Bristle sat up from his food bowl, cleared his throat, and looked around at the three other cats. "As we all know, this day is a very important day."

Nightpaw looked over at him, hardly believing it.

"This will be the most important day in my career," Bristle went on proudly.

Hearing this, Nightpaw growled a little and returned to eating his Meow Mix. The black tomcat thought angrily, _He's talking about that stupid dinner party. Stupid idiot._

His uncle had been talking about it for a few quarter-moons or so and he didn't speak of anything else, to tell the truth. Some rich cat from Britain and his mate were coming over for dinner, and after that, Bristle would ask them to work for Daniel at his workplace; Daniel was now working at the zoo as a cheerful zookeeper there.

Bristle cleared his throat again and meowed, "I think we'll run through the agenda once more. Now, we should all be in position at eight o'clock sharp. Tulip, where will you be?"

"In the front room," Tulip meowed punctually, "I will be waiting to welcome them courteously to our home."

"Good, good. And Tubby, what will you do then?"

Tubby made a wide simpering smile and purred, "I'll be waiting to open the cat flap. 'May I take your hats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?'"

"They'll love him!" Tulip squealed rapturously while Nightpaw rolled his eyes.

Bristle nodded. "Good, good." But then he rounded on Nightpaw and growled. "And where will you be at, boy?"

Nightpaw gazed back at him, "I'll be up in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

"Precisely," Uncle Bristle growled unkindly. Then he went on, "Now I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you to them, Tulip, and pour them some drinks that Daniel has been saving. At eight-fifteen..."

"I'll announce dinner," Tulip mewed.

Bristle nodded. "Good. And Tubby?"

"'May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?'" Tubby meowed, offering his fat chunky tail to an invisible cat.

Aunt Tulip sniffed. "My perfect gentleman!"

Nightpaw rolled his eyes, but he quickly finished it in time. "And you?" his uncle spat cruelly to the young black-furred apprentice.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Nightpaw replied drearily.

"Exactly. Now, we should plan to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Have you any ideas, Tulip?"

Nightpaw sighed and turned his back on his obnoxious relatives. Amusing a guest was one thing, but practicing compliments to be suck-ups was another.

Tulip cleared her throat. "'Bristle had been telling me that you have a wonderful construction worker for an owner, Mr. Mason...do tell me where you bought your cat sweater, Mrs. Mason..."

Bristle nodded to her. "Perfect. Tubby?"

Tubby had that simpering grin on his face again as he meowed, "How about...'We had to write an essay about our hero at our obedience school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"

This was too much for both Aunt Tulip and Nightpaw. Tulip immediately burst into tears and embraced her son, while Nightpaw looked away from the others so that they wouldn't see him laughing. He knew fully well that they would make him behave so that they could spoil him some more.

"And you, boy?" Bristle barked at him.

Nightpaw quickly fought to keep his face straight as he turned back around. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he meowed dully again. He hated going like this when his own relatives were abusing him. Daniel would be going away at a party for the night and he wouldn't be back for a while.

Bristle growled forcefully, "That's right. The Masons don't know a thing about you and it shall stay that way. When dinner's over, Tulip, you take Mrs. Mason back to the front room for tea and I shall bring the subject around to being a secretary for Daniel. With any luck, we'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news comes on at ten. We will shop for a vacation home in Portugal this time tomorrow."

Nightpaw didn't feel that excited about this proposition. He didn't think that the Dursley cats would like him any better in Portugal than they did at Wrangell, Alaska.

"Right...I'm off to town with Daniel to pick up the dinner cat sweaters for Tubby and me. And you," he growled at Nightpaw. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning up."

_At least they aren't making _me_ clean up for them, _Nightpaw thought to himself. But he did feel upset about no one caring about his birthday, so he turned around and left through the back door. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, but he was still sad about this. He padded across the lawn, leaped up to the garden bench and sat down on there, and sang sadly under his breath:

_"Happy birthday to me._

_Happy birthday to me._

_I feel so damn lonely._

_Won't someone take me?"_

There were now no cards and no presents to be expected, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed despondently into the hedge; he had never felt so lonely in his life. More than anything else at the Forest, more even than playing AirBall, the black cat missed his best friends, Redpaw Weasley and Fawnpaw Granger.

However, they didn't seem to miss him at all. Neither Redpaw nor Fawnpaw had written back to him all greenleaf, although Redpaw had meowed that he was going to ask his friend to come and stay. Often, Nightpaw was on the threshold of unlocking his owl's cage with magic and sending Katara to his friends with a letter, but it wasn't it. Juvenile warriors weren't allowed to use magic or display it to kittypets outside of school. Nightpaw hadn't told his relatives this; he knew they were scared that he might turn them all into ants that stopped them locking him in the cage in the closet with his tail-wand and racing wings.

But he was allowed to fight and hunt outside of school; he just had to not use magic to hunt or fight.

For the first couple quarter-moons back, Nightpaw enjoyed muttering claptrap words under his breath and watching Tubby scream and run off as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long quiet from his friends made Nightpaw feel so disconnected from his true world that even taunting his cousin lost its fun, now that they forgot his birthday.

He wished that he could be given a message from the Forest and be given a message from any warrior. He would be almost glad of a sight of his archrival, Icepaw Malfoy, just to make sure that it wasn't a dream. But his first year at the Forest wasn't all that fun. At the end of the school year, he came face-to-face with none other than Red Helmet himself; his helper Quailflight Quirrel had been killed by Nightpaw.

Red Helmet was a ruin of his former self, but he was still scary, still cunning, and still resolute on regaining power. Nightpaw had slipped through Red Helmet's claws for a second time, but it was a narrow escape since he almost died, and even now, nearly a moon later, Nightpaw would still wake up in the night, breathing hard and wondering where Red Helmet was at, remembering his enraged face and his small glowing red eyes...

Suddenly, Nightpaw sat upright and quickly on the garden bench. He was staring vaguely into the hedge..._and it was staring back at him. _Two large bright orange eyes had appeared among the leaves. The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix jumped to his paws when a mocking voice floated across the lawn.

"I know what day it is," Tubby sang, toddling like a fat pig toward him.

The huge orange eyes blinked and quickly vanished.

"What the hell do you want?" He still didn't take his eyes off the spot where the eyes had been at.

"I know what day it is," Tubby repeated, coming straight up to him.

Nightpaw rolled his green eyes and retorted sarcastically, "Good job. You've finally learned the days of the week. Whoop-dee-doo."

Tubby sneered, "Today's your birthday, runt. Why don't you have any cards? I bet you don't even have any friends at that freak place you call an obedience school!"

"Don't let your parents hear you talking about my school," Nightpaw told him calmly.

Tubby ruffled up his fur, which was still kitten-soft from all the additional pampering from his parents. Nightpaw's pelt, meanwhile, was at first soft and very thick during leaf-bare at the Forest, just like a wild cat. But since he was back, he had to groom himself every day.

"Why are you staring at the hedge?" Tubby meowed warily.

Deciding to pay him back for saying that he had no friends, Nightpaw replied, "Oh, nothing. I'm just deciding on what spell can set it on fire."

Tubby stumbled backward onto his bottom, his yellow eyes wide with fright and his chunky face tensed up. "You c-can't do that! Dad already told you that you can't do m-magic! He said that he'll throw you out of the house! And you haven't got anywhere else to go and you don't have any friends to take you!"

Snarling at that, Nightpaw meowed in a fierce voice, _"Jiggery pokery! Hocus pocus! Squiggly wiggly..."_

"MOOOOOOM!" howled Tubby, tripping over his clumsy paws as he dashed back toward the house. "MOOOOOOM! He's doing you-know-what!"

Despite smiling at watching him flee, Nightpaw paid very much for his small moment of fun. As neither Tubby nor the hedge was burnt to ashes, Aunt Tulip knew he didn't really do any magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with her claws. Then she gave him a lot of work to do, promising him that he wouldn't eat again until he was finished.

While Tubby lazed around while eating his favorite cat treats and sneering nastily at Nightpaw, Nightpaw had to clean the windows, wash Daniel's monster, mow the lawn, trim the flowerbeds, prune and water the roses, and repaint the garden bench. These were all tasks impossible for a cat and he suspected that they just made a slave out of him to do their dirty work...literally.

The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck and making him hot under his fur. The black cat knew that he should not have risen to Tubby's trick, but the fat gray cat had said the very thing that Nightpaw had been thinking himself. Maybe he _didn't_ have any friends at the Forest. He definitely remembered almost everyone hating him near the end of last school year.

_I wish they could see the famous Nightpaw now_, he thought savagely as he kicked manure on the flower beds, his back aching. _I wish they could see me as the slave those kittypets made me! And is Daniel here to help me? No! Why should he care now?_

It was half past seven in the evening when at last, worn out, he could hear Aunt Tulip calling for him. "Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"

Nightpaw did so and he moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. He could see one thing on top of the fridge. It was tonight's dessert: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets on top of a large velvet cake. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven. Nightpaw's taste buds wailed at the thought of not eating any of this, but he had no choice but to resist eating it.

"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" Aunt Tulip snapped.

She was pointing with her tail to two small slices of bread and a chunk of cheese on the kitchen floor. Nightpaw glared down at the plate with disgust; he almost told her he would rather eat a mouse than that. But that would only get him into more trouble and he didn't want to risk being forced to do more work.

So he groomed his fur fast, washed his paws in the sink, and quickly ate through his shameful dinner. At the moment that he was finished, Aunt Tulip whisked away his plate.

"Upstairs! Hurry!"

So Nightpaw turned around and padded away from the she-cat. But as he passed the door to the living room, the British Shorthair mix caught a glimpse of Uncle Bristle and Tubby in bow ties and fancy cat sweaters. He only just leaped up to the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Bristle's angry face appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Remember, boy. Just make one sound and you'll pay!"

Nightpaw sighed, nodded, and crossed over to his bedroom with one paw in the room. Quickly, he slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his nest. But the problem was that there was already someone jumping on it.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: I hope you liked the first chapter of Nightfang and the Cavern of Secrets!**

**Harry: I don't really like it. But Dudley and I are on good terms now.**

**Ron: Just don't worry about your aunt and uncle, though. They're just strange Muggles, that's all! Anyways, who should say the review thing?**

**Hermione: I will. (She and Ron both exchange a quick kiss before she faces the readers) Since this is the first chapter of Nightfang and the Cavern of Secrets, I propose that anyone who reviews it will be given a box of virtual candy from Honeydukes.**

**AvatarCat11: Good job as usual, you three!**

**Golden Trio: Thanks!**

**Everyone in the room: See ya next time!**


	2. Bobby's Advice

**AvatarCat11: So far, for the first chapter, I already have four reviews! How amazing is this?**

**Hermione: That's really great, AvatarCat! Besides, the reviews you're getting on your Avatar Cat story are going up a little. Good for you!**

**AvatarCat11: Thanks! (Looks around the room) Where are Harry and Ron at?**

**Hermione: We made a deal that only one of us will enter one chapter at a time; that way, it won't get confusing. So may I say the disclaimer for now?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure. Plus, they didn't choose Emma Watson for the Kids' Choice Awards on Saturday night! She acted as you very good in the Harry Potter movies! Plus, she IS really attractive.**

**Hermione: (Blushes with embarrassment) ...well...I see. Anyways, AvatarCat11...may I say the disclaimer, please?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure!**

**Hermione: Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: AvatrCat11 has no intention of owning Harry Potter or Warrior Cats. You don't, do you?**

**AvatarCat11: Not in a lifetime, Hermione; plus, don't tell anyone, but I have a small crush on Emma Watson. Plus, Warriors: Sign of the Moon comes out today!**

**Updating date: April 5, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Bobby's Advice_

While he watched the animal jump on his nest and squeal with delight, Nightpaw managed to not make a loud yowl come out, even though he was going to for surprise because he had never seen an animal like this before.

The animal on his nest had a prominent black face, with two proportionately large orange eyes, although its fur was mostly white with several black stripes. It had two very wide large ears. He got the feeling that he knew that this was the animal spying on him through the garden bushes this morning.

Nightpaw could hear his cousin's voice from downstairs, but he ignored it. He looked back at the animal; it looked like it was wearing some kind of filthy toga on its body with loads of holes everywhere.

"Um...greetings," Nightpaw mewed nervously.

The creature stopped bouncing on the bed and got down, bowing so that his long tail wrapped around his feet. "Nightpaw Potter!" it squealed in a high-pitched voice Nightpaw knew would carry downstairs. "So long has Bobby wanted to greet you, sir... It is such an honor to meet you..."

Nightpaw edged along the wall and leaped up onto his desk chair, next to Katara, who was sound asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask it, "What are you?" but he thought that it would sound too rude to say. So instead, he meowed, "Who are you?"

"Bobby, sir. You can just call me Bobby. Bobby the house lemur," the little animal said. Then he spread out his arms to reveal two membranes used for flying as he added, "Bobby is also a flying lemur."

"Really?" Nightpaw asked him, trying to sound interested; he had seen lemurs at the zoo before, but he hadn't seen any lemur like this before. "Hey listen, I don't want to be rude or anything, but...I don't think that this is a great time for me to have a flying lemur in my room."

Nightpaw could easily hear his aunt's high, false laugh from the living room. The lemur hung his head sadly. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, he added quickly, "Look, it's not that I'm not glad to meet you, but...is there any particular reason why you're here?"

The lemur nodded quickly and replied, "Oh yes, sir. Bobby has come to tell you, sir. This is rather difficult, sir... Bobby doesn't know where to begin..."

"Why don't you sit down?" Nightpaw asked him politely, pointing at the nest with his tail.

To his wonder, the lemur stuttered, "S-s-sit down?" Then, to his dismay, the lemur burst into tears...very noisy tears, he guessed...and he began wailing loudly. "S-sit down!" he wailed very loudly while turning away from Nightpaw. "Never! Never ever!"

Nightpaw thought that he heard the voices downstairs falter.

"Bobby, I'm sorry," he whispered quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you or anything..."

"U-upset Bobby!" choked the lemur as he turned around to face him. "B-Bobby has never been asked to sit down by a warrior...like an equal animal..."

The Maine Coon mix, trying to calm him down and look kind at the same time, took Bobby by the scruff and sat him back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly rat. At last, he managed to control himself in time, and he leaped down to the floor with his big orange eyes fixed on Nightpaw in an expression of watery high regard.

To cheer him up, the black cat meowed while smiling hopefully, "Well, you can't have met many decent warriors, right?"

Bobby shook his head and said, "Quite right." Then suddenly, without warning, the flying lemur flew up and started banging his head irately on the window, shouting, "Bad Bobby! Bad Bobby!"

"Don't! What the hell are you doing?" Nightpaw hissed, springing up and pulling Bobby back onto the bed; Katara just woke up with a mostly loud screech and was beating her wings madly against the bars of her cage. Below, he could hear Bristle meow quickly, "Tubby must've left the television on again, the little tyke!"

"Bobby had to punish himself, sir," said the lemur, who had gone a little cross-eyed as he pushed a footstool over to the bed and sat up. "Bobby was going to speak ill of his family, sir..."

"Your family?"

Bobby nodded. "Yes. It's the warrior family that Bobby serves, sir. Bobby is a house lemur, and Bobby is bound to serve one house and one family of cats and their Twolegs forever..."

Nightpaw asked him curiously, "Do they know you're here?"

Bobby shuddered. "Oh, no, sir, no... Bobby will have to punish himself most fatally for coming to see you here, sir. Bobby will have to let the family dog chew off his ears for this. If they ever knew, sir..."

"But won't they notice it if the dog chews on your ears?"

"Bobby doubts it, sir," he said with a confused look. "Bobby always has to punish himself for something bad, sir. They let Bobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes, they even remind me to do extra punishments..."

Feeling sorry for him, Nightpaw asked him, "So why don't you run away or escape from there?"

Bobby replied sadly, "A house lemur must be set free first, sir. And the family will never set Bobby free, ever… Bobby will have to serve the family until he dies, sir..."

Nightpaw stared at him with pity. "And I thought staying here for four moons was bad enough," he mewed. "And this makes the Dursley cats sound like normal cats. Can't anyone help you out? Can't _I_ help you?"

Almost straight away, Nightpaw wished that he didn't say that because Bobby was going again into wails of thankfulness. To calm him down, he rasped, "Bobby, please be quiet! If they hear anything, if they know that you're here..."

"Nightpaw asks if he can assist Bobby!" the lemur wailed gleefully. "Oh sir, Bobby has heard much about your greatness, sir, but of your kindness! But Bobby never knew..."

Nightpaw, who blushed pretty hard, mewed quite fiercely, "Look, whatever you've heard about my 'greatness' is nothing but a large pile of fox-dung. I'm not even the best apprentice in my year at the Forest; that's Fawnpaw. She..."

But he stopped himself quickly, because thinking about the light brown tabby she-cat was very painful.

Bobby continued his speech respectfully, his orb-like orange eyes glowing. "Nightpaw is very humble and very reserved. Nightpaw speaks not even of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..."

"You mean Red Helmet?"

Bobby clapped his hands over his bat-like ears and moaned, "Ah! Don't speak the name, sir! Don't speak the name!"

Nightpaw calmed him down and mewed hurriedly, "Sorry. I know that a lot of cats don't like to say the name. My friend Redpaw..." But he stopped himself again; thinking about the ginger tom was painful, too.

Bobby leaned toward Nightpaw, his eyes wide as a tarsier's, as he told him, "Bobby heard some story that Nightpaw faced off against the Dark Bear for a second time just a moon ago...that he had escaped yet again."

Nightpaw nodded truthfully and Bobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears of sorrow.

"Ah, sir," he gasped, wiping his face with a spot of the unclean pillowcase that he was wearing. "Nightpaw is so valiant and so bold! He has fought against so many dangers already! But Bobby has come to protect Nightpaw and to warn him, even if he _does_ have to let the family dog chew on his ears later. Nightpaw Potter must not return to the Forest, School of Warriorism, this year!"

There was a silence broken only by the tinkle of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Bristle's voice. Nightpaw, meanwhile, couldn't believe what he heard; the young black cat already had enough of these kittypets. It was bad enough to stay with them forever.

"What the hell?" Nightpaw stammered over his words. "B-But I have to return! The first day of school begins on September first. It's all that's keeping me alive inside. You have no idea about what it's like here. I don't belong here! I belong in your world! At the Forest!"

"No, no, no!" Bobby squealed, shaking his head so hard that his huge ears flapped. "Nightpaw must stay where he is safe. He is too great, and too good, to lose! If he returns to the Forest, he will be in deadly peril."

"Why?" Nightpaw asked him in surprise, but he was still shocked.

Bobby whispered, suddenly trembling all over, "There is a plot, sir. It is a plot that could make very horrible things happen at the Forest. Bobby has known it for moons, sir. Nightpaw must not put himself in danger. He is too important to lose, sir!"

Nightpaw mewed right away, "What kind of horrible things? Who's doing the plotting?"

The winged lemur made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.

"Okay, fine!" Nightpaw cried, grabbing the lemur's tail to stop him in time. "You can't tell me, but I understand. But why are you warning ME?" A sudden, horrid thought struck him like a badger's paw. "Wait...does this have anything to do with...You-Know-Who? Just shake or nod," he added quickly as the lemur's head tilted disturbingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Bobby shook his head. "Not...not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir..."

But Bobby's big orange eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Nightpaw a hint. But the British Shorthair mix, however, was completely lost at this.

"Does he have a brother or a cub?"

Bobby shook his head, his orange eyes wider than ever.

"Oh. I thought he'd have a brother or cub. I can't think of anyone else who would have a chance of making awful things happen at the Forest," Nightpaw mewed; he hoped that would get him back to the Forest. "Well, there's Silverstar, for one thing; you know who Silverstar is, right?"

Bobby bowed his head and replied, "Yes, Bobby knows it, sir. Silverstar Dumbledore is the greatest leader that the Forest has ever had. Bobby has heard that Silverstar's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the pinnacle of his strength. But, sir..." his voice dropped to an urgent whisper "...there are powers that Silverstar doesn't have... powers that no respectable warrior cat..."

And before Nightpaw could stop him, the winged lemur bounded off the bed, seized the desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.

A sudden silence fell from downstairs. Two seconds later, Nightpaw, heart thudding frantically heard Uncle Bristle coming into the hall and he was calling, "Oh...um...I think that's Daniel's dog making a racket up there. I'll check it out."

Quickly, Nightpaw saved himself in time by stuffing Bobby into the closet, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the nest just as the door handle turned.

"What the hell are you _doing,_ boy?" his uncle hissed as soon as the gray tom got into the room.

"I...um...I was..." Nightpaw began.

"You just ruined the perfect punch line to my Iranian tennis joke!" Bristle spat.

Nightpaw nodded. "Sorry."

The door shuddered quite violently. Bristle gave it a weird look before glaring at his nephew once again. "One more sound out of here and you'll wish you've never been kittened, boy. And fix that blasted door!"

Nightpaw nodded again while his uncle stomped flat-footed from the room and back downstairs. His fur bristling, Nightpaw let Bobby out of the closet while the lemur began breathing hard because of the hot air in the closet.

"Now do you see what it's like here?" Nightpaw asked him while Bobby had his back turned to him. "Do you see why I have to return to the Forest? It's the only place I've got and it's the best place in the world! ...well, I think I've got some friends."

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Nightpaw?" Bobby asked him guardedly, turning around with a sly grin on his face.

Nightpaw replied, "Well, I think that they might've forgotten about it, but they...wait a minute." He stopped right there, frowning because there was something that Bobby wasn't telling him, and he didn't like it. "How do you know that my friends aren't writing to me?"

Bobby shuffled his hind feet as he murmured, "Bobby must beg of Nightpaw to not be angry with him, for he thought it was for the best."

"_Did you stop those letters?"_

"Yes sir. Bobby has them here sir," Bobby whimpered. Stepping lightly out of the tomcat's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the dirty pillowcase that he was wearing. Nightpaw could see Fawnpaw's tidy writing, Redpaw's jumbled scribble, and even a scrawl that looked as if it was from Badgerstripe, the Forest gamekeeper.

Bobby blinked anxiously up at Nightpaw. "Now Nightpaw mustn't be mad at Bobby... Bobby hoped...that if Nightpaw thought that his friends had forgotten about him, then Nightpaw might not want to return to school, sir."

Even with no friends, Nightpaw still wanted to return to the Forest and away from this hellhole. Ignoring the warning that Bobby gave him, he leaped forward to make a grab for the letters, but Bobby flew out of reach and perched himself on top of the bookcase.

"If Nightpaw promises Bobby that he will not go back to the Forest, he will have his letters back!" he said as his voice rose to a high voice, as if he was going to trick someone. "Sir, this is a danger that you shouldn't face! Say you won't go back, sir."

Nightpaw growled, "Give me my friends' letters..._now._"

"NO!" Bobby wailed. Growling, Nightpaw leaped upward and tried to snag the lemur in his claws, but Bobby already lifted off, flew to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and flew down the stairs.

His mouth dry and stomach lurching, Nightpaw sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. He jumped the last six steps, landing quickly on the hall carpet, looking around for Bobby. He had just seen the lemur crash into the wall a little before he skidded to a halt to the kitchen. And from the dining room he heard Uncle Bristle meowing, "Er, tell Tulip that very witty story about those English plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear this one..."

Nightpaw sprinted up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach lurch. Aunt Tulip's masterpiece of a red velvet cake, the mountain of cream and violets, was right at the end of the table. Bobby looked up at it before turning around to grin at Nightpaw, who whimpered, "Bobby, get back here."

But Bobby shook his head and snapped his fingers; in a minute, the entire cake was floating in the air above the floor.

"No," Nightpaw croaked. "Please...they're gonna kill me..."

"Nightpaw must say he won't return to school, sir!"

Nightpaw moaned, "I can't. The Forest is my home."

Bobby gave him an elfin smiling look as he said cautiously, "Then Bobby must do it, sir, for Nightpaw's own good!" Then he snapped his fingers.

Nightpaw gulped as he saw the cake fall down quickly down right to the floor. Not thinking much about anything else except to get out of trouble, he sighed and ran right underneath the falling cake, hoping to catch it and put it back. But the cake fell right on top of him with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls like blood as the dish shattered. Pulling himself out from the mess and covered with cake, Nightpaw began to eat some of it to try and clean the mess up.

There were screeches from the dining room and Uncle Bristle burst into the kitchen to find Nightpaw, stiff with shock, covered from head to paw in cake while trying to eat some of it off from the floor.

At first, the big gray tomcat would managed to cover the situation up by meowing, "Oh, so sorry, everyone. That's just our disturbed nephew. Meeting strangers upsets him, so we just kept him upstairs..."

At this, Nightpaw whirled around to glare at Bobby, who was peering at him from around the corner. The winged lemur was just giving him an innocent yet naughty smile. With a wink and a snap of his fingers, Bobby disappeared.

Then Bristle shooed the shocked Mason cats back into the dining room, promised Nightpaw that he would thrash him until he was just bones when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Tulip got some ice cream out of the freezer and Nightpaw, still shaking about what happened, started scrubbing the kitchen floor clean. Uncle Bristle would've been able to make his deal...if it wasn't for the owl.

Tulip was just passing around a box of after-dinner mints when a big orange Great Horned Owl flew through the kitchen window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and flew out again. Mrs. Mason screeched like a howler monkey and ran from the house, shouting about loons in the world. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursley cats that his mate was greatly afraid of all birds and asked them if this was some sort of sick joke.

Nightpaw stood in the kitchen, leaning against the mop for support, as Bristle advanced on him, an evil spark in his yellow eyes. Now that he lost the chance for the promotion to Daniel's job, Nightpaw thought, Bristle was now going to flay him until he was nothing but bones.

"Read it!" the gray tom hissed viciously, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. "Go on... read it!"

Nightpaw took it while shaking, and he began reading it. It did not contain birthday greetings. Instead, it said:

_Dear Mr. Nightpaw Potter,_

_We have received word that a Hover Spell was used at your place of house this evening at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you already know, juvenile warrior cats are not allowed to perform spells outside school or display the Warrior Code in front of kittypets, and further spell work on your part may lead up to your exile from your school. (Order for the Sensible Limit of Juvenile Warriorism, 1895, Paragraph C)._

_We would like to also ask you to remember that any magical action that risks notice by members of the non-warrior society (kittypets) is a grave crime under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warriors' Decree of Mystery._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Blacktail Hopkirk_

_IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

_Government of Warriors_

Nightpaw looked up from the letter to his uncle's evilly triumphant face and gulped. He did not like where this was going.

"Well, well, well. So you didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside your obedience school," Bristle growled, a crazy sparkle dancing in his mad eyes. "And you forgot to mention it, eh? Slipped your mind, I say..."

He was now towering the young black tomcat like a great powerful bear with all his teeth bared. "Well, guess what, boy? I'll lock you up! You'll never return that..._school!_ And if you try and magic yourself out...they'll push you out! Hahaha!"

And still laughing like a maniac, he slashed Nightpaw all over his body and dragged the young bleeding cat back upstairs.

**...**

Uncle Bristle was just as bad as his word; the following morning, he was quite able to fit bars on Nightpaw's window all by himself. He even fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small quantities of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They did let the black tom out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock, weak and bloody.

And Bristle would come by to taunt him, "You're never going back to that school! Never!"

**...**

Three days later, the Dursley cats were showing no sign of relenting, and Nightpaw couldn't even see one way out of his situation. He curled up on his nest, watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window, and he wondered sadly what was going to happen to him. He even heard Daniel believe that his young black cat had been snatched away by an owl during the night.

What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if the Forest would just exile him for doing that? Yet life at Wrangell had reached a record low. Now that the Dursley cats knew they weren't going to wake up as cockroaches, Nightpaw had lost his only ultimate weapon. Bobby might have saved him from horrible happenings at school, but the way things were going, he would maybe go hungry anyways.

The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Tulip's skinny paw appeared, pushing a bowl of cold corn and stale crackers into the room. Nightpaw, whose belly was roaring with hunger, leaped off his bed and plunged his muzzle into it. The corn was stone-cold, but he managed to eat half of it in one gulp. Then he padded across the room to his owl's cage and tipped the stale crackers at the bottom of the bowl into her empty food tray. When Katara saw this, she ruffled her feathers and gave him a look of deep revulsion.

"That's all we'll get, girl, and I'd eat those if I were you," Nightpaw told her gloomily.

Then the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat-flap and lay back down onto his nest. Despite having already eaten the corn, he was one way or another hungrier than he had been before the corn.

Nightpaw wondered about this: _If I was still alive in another moon, what would happen if I don't show up at the Forest? Will someone be sent to see why I haven't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursley cats let me leave?_

The room was now growing dark. Fatigued, his belly rumbling and his mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Nightpaw fell into a troubled sleep.

He dreamed that he was on show in the zoo, with a card reading JUVENILE CAT attached to his cage. Twolegs were goggling through the bars at him as he lay, hungry and frail, on a bed of hay. He saw Bobby's face in the crowd and shouted out, "Help me!" but Bobby called, "Nightpaw is safe there, sir!" and vanished. Then the Dursley cats appeared and Tubby rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.

"Stop that," Nightpaw whimpered as the rattling pounded on in his sore head. "Can't you just leave me alone...? Cut it out... I wanna sleep..."

Then he finally opened his green eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And something was flying down right towards his room's window. Finally fully awake and able to knock out an intruder, Nightpaw padded forward and looked closely. Someone _was_ goggling through the bars at him: a broad-faced, red-furred, blue-eyed cat.

Redpaw Weasley was just outside the window with Berrytail and Cherrynose, his brothers.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Well, I think that that's enough for today! And how dare those Dursleys lock him up like that! Plus, I have to take a day off from school today because of a headache and sinus problems.**

**Hermione: That's a shame, AvatarCat. Hope you get well soon.**

**AvatarCat11: Thanks, Hermione. Now may I say the review thing? (AvatarCat11 nods) Thank you. (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this story will receive a virtual bag of Wonka Candy products. But don't show this to my parents; they're dentists!**

**Plus, tomorrow is the anniversary that AvatarCat11 has created his Avatar Cat: The Last AirClan Cat series. So anyone who reviews will receive a virtual golden figurine of Goldwing, Silverheart, or Ashfeather.**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: See ya next time! And Happy early Easter!**


	3. The Tunnels

**AvatarCat11: It's been quite a while since I updated Nightfang and the Cavern of Secrets, so why not update it?**

**Ron: That's a good idea, mate. Plus, you'll see my family in their cat forms.**

**AvatarCat11: That's true. And we're now on Spring Break! So would you like to say the disclaimer?**

**Ron: Sure! Why not? Plus, this chapter is going to be as long as Hell.**

**Disclaimer: If anyone says that AvatarCat11 owns us or Warrior Cats, I'll Jinx them into oblivion! But Hermione won't like that.**

**AvatarCat11: True, and I know one thing about girlfriends: never disappoint them.**

**Updating Date: April 16, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Ron: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Tunnels_

"R-Redpaw?" Nightpaw breathed, opening the inner part of the window where the bars weren't blocking the way. "Redpaw, how've you been? And...what the hell?"

The Maine Coon mix's mouth fell open as the full realization of what he was seeing hit him. Redpaw was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise monster, which was parked in the middle of the air.

Grinning at the black cat from the front seats were Berrytail and Cherrynose, Redpaw's impish elder twin brothers.

Nightpaw gaped again. "Berrytail? Cherrynose?"

"You okay there, buddy?" Cherrynose purred.

"Hold on right there," Redpaw told him before getting to the window to talk. Then he meowed in an impatient way, "Nightpaw, what in the name of StarClan is going on? Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and told us that you got an official warning for using magic in front of kittypets..."

"It wasn't me!" Nightpaw growled. "And how did he know?"

Redpaw meowed impatiently still, "He works for the Government of Warriors. You _know_ that we can't do spells outside school..."

Nightpaw stared up at the blue floating monster and retorted, "Bit rich coming from you."

"Oh, _this_ doesn't count," Redpaw snapped back at him, flicking his tail frivolously towards the monster. "We're just borrowing this monster. And it's Samantha and Dad's; _we _didn't put a spell on it. But doing just that in front of those kittypets that you live with..."

"Skip the lecture already. I didn't do it," Nightpaw growled, feeling irritated at this. But he remembered his situation. "Look, it's hard to explain right now. So can you tell them at the Forest that the Dursley cats have locked me up and won't let me come back and I can't use magic to get myself out? Because the Government will think that it's the second spell that I did in three days, so..."

Redpaw exchanged amused looks with his brothers while Nightpaw ranted on before turning back to face him. "What are you, stupid?" the American Shorthair purred. "We're rescuing you, of course! Now come on! Get your stuff!"

Nightpaw was baffled. "What? But you can't bust me out with magic?"

Redpaw purred again, "Buddy, you're forgetting who I got with me. We decided to come and get you anyways." He flicked his tail towards his twin brothers, who were grinning with an impish behavior.

Berrytail nodded to his brother and started taking charge of the jailbreak. "Tie that around the bars."

"O...okay. But if those kittypets wake up, I'm crowfood," Nightpaw muttered. Despite his tone, he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Berrytail revved up the monster while Cherrynose controlled the steering wheel.

"Don't worry," Berrytail commanded, "and keep clear."

The British Shorthair mix slipped easily back into the shadows next to Katara, who seemed to have realized how important this escape was and she kept still and silent.

The monster roared louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Berrytail floored it right into the air. Nightpaw leaped back to the window to see the bars dangling a few fox-lengths above the ground. Panting, Redpaw hoisted them up into the back of the monster. Nightpaw listened nervously, but there was no sound from the bedroom of the kittypets.

When the bars were safely in the back seat with Redpaw, Berrytail backed the monster up as close as possible to Nightpaw's window.

"Go on. Get in," Redpaw told his friend.

"But all my school stuff..."

"Where is it?"

Nightpaw flicked his tail to the bedroom door. "They're locked in the cage in the living room closet, and I can't get out of here."

"No problem," Cherrynose purred from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, please."

The two identical ginger tomcats climbed like sleek ferrets through the window into the small room. Nightpaw had to respect their sly skills as Cherrynose quickly unsheathed one claw on his paw and started to pick the lock.

"Many warrior cats think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of kittypet trick," Berrytail told him. "But even though these tricks are just slower than magic, we feel they're worth learning."

There was a small click and the door swung open.

"All right, so we'll get your trunk; you get anything you need from your room and hand it out to Redpaw," Cherrynose whispered to Nightpaw.

"Got it. Just watch the bottom stair; it creaks," Nightpaw whispered back as the twin tomcats gave him a nod. Then they gave each other a smile and disappeared onto the dark landing.

Nightpaw quickly dashed around his room, collecting his things and passing them out of the window to Redpaw. Then he went to help Berrytail and Cherrynose (who were returning with his school stuff) heave his trunk up the stairs. But when this was pulling through, Nightpaw swore that he heard Uncle Bristle snort in his sleep.

At last, panting, they reached the landing, and then carried the trunk through Nightpaw's room to the open window. Berrytail leaped back into the monster to pull with Redpaw while Nightpaw and Cherrynose pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid noisily through the window.

Uncle Bristle snorted again; thankfully, he hadn't woken up yet.

"Just a bit more," panted Berrytail, who was pulling from inside the car. "Just give it one good push."

Nightpaw and Cherrynose threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the turquoise monster.

"Now let's blow this joint," Cherrynose announced.

But just as soon as Nightpaw leaped onto the windowsill, there came a sudden loud screech from behind him. This was followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Bristle's voice.

"THAT STUPID OWL!"

Nightpaw gasped. "Katara!"

The black cat leaped down from the window and tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on; he snatched up Katara's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Redpaw. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Bristle charged against the unlocked door...and it crashed open.

For just a few seconds, the big gray British Shorthair stood right there in the doorway, looking very furious. They he let out a roar like an angry bear and leaped at Nightpaw, pushing him to the ground and pinning his hind legs down hard. He seemed to be trying to break his legs.

Seeing the danger, the three Weasley cats let out growls of rage and leaped through the window, trying to get Bristle off of their black-pelted friend.

"Tulip!" Bristle screeched loudly. "He's escaping! HE'S ESCAPING!"

"Let me go!" Nightpaw hissed, trying to swipe at his uncle's nose.

But Bristle snarled, "Oh no you won't, you little freak! You and that bloody crow aren't going anyw-rowr!"

For Redpaw had managed to take a swipe at the area around his eyes and Bristle let go of Nightpaw, growling in rage. Just in time, Berrytail and Cherrynose pulled him free and the four wildcats leaped through the window and back into the monster.

"Floor it!" Redpaw howled, for Bristle had recovered quickly and leaped at them. But the two Weasley cats were smarter and they floored it hard, leaving Bristle hanging onto the monster for a bit before falling into the flower garden.

While Tulip and Tubby let out wails of terror, Daniel had come out of the Twoleg nest and was gazing up thoughtfully at the flying monster.

Nightpaw couldn't believe it; he was finally free. He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his long fur, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Evergreen Avenue. Uncle Bristle was now left glaring up at them before they flew off, while the others gazed up with fear and wonder.

"See ya next time!" Nightpaw yelled to them.

The Weasley cats yowled with laughter and Nightpaw settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

Redpaw nudged his friend happily and purred, "By the way, Happy Birthday, pal!"

"Thanks!" Nightpaw purred. Then... "How about we let Katara out of her cage? She can fly right behind us. She couldn't stretch her wings for ages."

Cherrynose gave him a nod and Redpaw unsheathed one claw and, a moment later, Katara was now soaring joyfully out of the window to glide along with them like a ghost.

**...**

"So...what's the story?" meowed Redpaw impatiently. "What's been going on?"

So Nightpaw told them all about Bobby, the warning that he had given the black cat, and the fiasco of the red velvet cake. There was a long, shocked silence when he finished his very long tale.

"That's strange," Berrytail finally meowed.

"Crooked," Cherrynose agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's plotting all of this stuff?"

"No, I don't think he could even if he wanted to," Nightpaw meowed. "I told you already that every time he got close to letting something slip, he started hitting his head against the wall and cursing at himself."

He saw the twin ginger toms look at each other. "So you think he was lying to me?" Nightpaw asked them curiously.

Berrytail scratched his ear with one paw. "Well, put it this way: lemurs have powerful magic of their own, but they can't use it without their master's permission. I think he was sent to stop you from returning to the Forest. Do you think anyone at school has a grudge against you?"

Nightpaw and Redpaw nodded together, completely aware of who that cat was. Nightpaw added, "There's Icepaw Malfoy. He hates me."

"You mean Blizzardclaw's son?"

"Maybe," Nightpaw answered, shrugging. "His last name's not really common, is it?"

Cherrynose spoke up. "Well, we've heard Dad talking about him. He was a big follower of You-Know-Who back in the days."

"And when that demon bear finally vanished," Berrytail added, craning his neck to look at the two friends, "Blizzardclaw Malfoy came back saying that he never meant any of it. That's a load of bullshit. Dad believes that he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle as his main advisor."

Pricking his ears up, Nightpaw knew that he had heard these rumors about the British Shorthair's family before, and that didn't surprise him at all. Icepaw seemed to make Tubby look like a kind, unselfish, and sensitive kitten...but he pushed that thought away quickly.

"I don't know if they own a lemur..." he finally broke the silence.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wildcat family, and they'll be rich," Berrytail mewed quite enviously.

Cherrynose piped up, "Yeah. Mom always wishes that we had a lemur to do our owner's ironing. But no, all we've got is a lousy old Bigfoot in the attic and wild turkeys all over the front garden. Lemurs come with big old mansions, castles, and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."

Nightpaw fell silent and began thinking. Judging by the fact that Icepaw usually had the best of everything, his family was rolling in wizard gold; he could just see the black-&-silver tabby tom swaggering around a large manor. Sending the family slave to stop him from returning to the Forest sounded like the sort of thing that he would do.

_Was I stupid to take Bobby seriously?_ he asked himself with suspicion.

"But anyways, I'm glad we came to get you," Redpaw purred. "I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Dodo's fault at first..."

"Who?"

"He's our Burrowing Owl and he's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time that he's collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Poseidon..."

_"Who?"_

Berrytail meowed with a bit of contempt, "He's the owl that Mom and Dad bought Sandthorn when he was made prefect."

"But he wouldn't lend him to me," Redpaw meowed. "He said that he needed him."

"And he's been acting very strangely this greenleaf," Cherrynose spoke up, frowning. "And he's been sending many letters and spending all his time shut up in his room. I mean, there are only so many times you can buff up a prefect badge... Whoa! You're driving too far west!" he added to Berrytail, pointing at a compass on the dashboard.

Quickly, the identical tom twiddled the steering wheel and they turned around as fast as they could go.

"So, does your dad know that you got the monster?" Nightpaw asked them, guessing what the answer would be.

"Uh... no," Redpaw confessed. "He had to work tonight. With a bit of luck, we'll get it back in the garage without Mom noticing we flew it."

"So what does your dad do at the Government of Warriors, anyway?" Nightpaw was interested in this matter at once.

Redpaw gave his friend a flick on the shoulder with his tail. "Eh, he works in the most tedious department. The Mistreatment of Twoleg Relic Office."

Seeing the look on his friend's face, he added, "It deals with bewitching things that are Twoleg-made, in case they end up back in a shop or nest. Last year, some old she-cat died and her cake set was sold to an antiques shop. This Twoleg female bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends cake with coffee in it. It was terrible; Dad was working overtime for quarter-moons."

"What happened?"

"The tray went berserk and launched hot cakes all over the place and one cat ended up at the vet's with a hot cake lodged in his eye. Dad was frantic; it's only him and an old warrior called Trouttail Perkins in the office and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up."

"But what about the monster?"

Berrytail purred. "Dad's crazy about everything to do with Twolegs or kittypets; our shed's full of Twoleg stuff. He takes things apart, puts spells on them, and puts them back together again. If he raided our nest, he'd put himself under arrest. It drives Mom crazy."

**...**

After a few more uneventful hours, there seemed to be a new eventful thing coming up. To Nightpaw, it was about time.

"That's the main road," Cherrynose mewed, peering down through the windshield. "And we'll be there in ten minutes. And it's getting light."

A faint reddish pink glow the color of flames was visible along the horizon to the east. Berrytail brought the monster lower, and Nightpaw saw a dark patchwork of mountains and clumps of pine trees.

"We're a little way outside the town," Cherrynose spoke up. "We're near Gustavus at Mackovjak Road."

Lower and lower went the flying monster. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees and over the mountains.

Berrytail let out a yowl of triumph as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground right in the middle of three small lakes. They had landed next to a small tumbledown garage in a small yard, and while Katara rested on his shoulders, Nightpaw looked out for the first time at Redpaw's house.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone barn, but extra rooms were added here and there until it was several stories high and so bent it looked as if it were held up by magic. Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. An uneven sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE TUNNELS. Around the front door lay an untidy heap of rubber collars and a very rusty pot. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard while a few pigs rooted the ground for food.

"It's not much, but it's better than nothing," Nightpaw heard Redpaw tell him.

"It's awesome," Nightpaw sighed contentedly, thinking of Wrangell.

They got out of the monster and leaped across the yard into the house. Nightpaw looked around to see several things operating by magic and it made him feel more at home.

Berrytail was mewing, "Here's the plan: we'll go upstairs really quietly, and wait for Mom to call us for breakfast Then Redpaw, you leap downstairs shouting, 'Mom! Look who came here last night!' and she'll be happy to see Nightpaw and no one need ever know we flew the monster."

"Got it," Redpaw agreed, flicking his tail at him to show that he understood. "Come on, buddy, I sleep at the...at the..."

The ginger tom had suddenly stood rigid, his blue eyes fixed on the area upstairs and his tail limp. The other three wheeled around to see what was going on.

Hollywhisker Weasley was stalking across the yard while scattering chickens and pigs. For a round and kind-faced ginger tabby she-cat, it was extraordinary how much she looked just like an angry Siberian tiger.

"Ah," Berrytail mewed.

"Oh dear," Cherrynose mewed.

The ginger tabby queen came to a halt in front of them, her tail lashing from side to side, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron around her neck with her own tail-wand flicking at the end of her tail.

"Where have you been?" she hissed.

"Uh... good morning, Mom," Cherrynose mewed in what he clearly thought was a cheerful and appealing voice.

But Hollywhisker wasn't listening. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Do you?"

"Sorry, Mom, but we had to..."

But they couldn't begin with the excuses because she began yowling at them. All three of her sons seemed to be taller than she was (even though Redpaw was at his mother's height), but they cowered as her temper broke over them. She did pause to say "Hello, dearie. Lovely to see you again" to Nightpaw before turning on her kits.

"_Nests empty! No note! Monster gone! You could've crashed! I was out of my mind with worry; did you care at all? ...never, as long as I've lived... You just wait until your father gets home! We didn't have trouble like this from Birdstorm, Clawfoot, or Sandthorn!"_

"Perfect Puss," Berrytail muttered, but it was the wrong thing to say.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF HIS BOOK!" yelled Hollywhisker, whisking around in his direction. "You could have died! You could have been seen!"

It seemed to go on for hours. Hollywhisker had screeched herself hoarse before she turned to face Nightpaw, who backed away fearfully. He had been used to the Dursley cats yelling at him, but he wasn't sure what it was like here.

"I'm happy to see you, Nightpaw, dear," she mewed. "Let's get you some breakfast."

She turned and padded back into the kitchen and Nightpaw, after a nervous glance at Redpaw (who nodded encouragingly), followed her.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and Nightpaw leaped onto the table, looking around. He had never been in a warrior cat nest before.

The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like _Time to make breakfast_, _Time to feed the pigs_, and _You're late_. Books were stacked three deep on the bookshelf, books with titles like Charm Your Own Catfish, Charm in Baking, and One Minute Feasts...It's Magic! And unless Nightpaw's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Sunset Hour, with the famous singing warrior, Moonwatcher Warbeck."

Meanwhile, Hollywhisker was clattering around as she was helping her owner cook breakfast a little randomly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw fish into the frying pan. Every now and then, she muttered things like "...don't know what you were thinking of..." and "...never would have believed it."

"Dearie, I don't blame you," she assured Nightpaw, tipping six or seven fish into his food bowl. "Weaseltail and I have been worried about you, too. Yesterday, we were saying that we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Redpaw by Friday. But really!" she added as she added three fried eggs to his plate. "Flying a monster halfway across Alaska! Anyone could have seen you."

She flicked her tail-wand offhandedly at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking quietly in the background.

"But it was cloudy, Mom!" Berrytail protested.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Hollywhisker snapped.

Cherrynose whined, "But they were starving him! They put bars on his window!"

"And you better hope I don't put bars on _your_ windows either!" she growled.

But it was with a faintly warm expression that she started adding some flavor to Nightpaw's Meow Mix and set it down gently in front of him. Nightpaw accepted the cat food gratefully and took a bite; it had the delicious flavor of rabbit in it.

At that moment, there was a distraction in the form of a small bright ginger she-kit rushing into the kitchen, her fur seemingly a little too long for her breed. She was asking her mother, "Mom, have you seen my collar?"

Hollywhisker nodded towards the living room. "Yes, Leafkit. The rats are doing their customary trade. Maybe they'll trade it for something of ours."

Feeling that he should make her feel welcome, Nightpaw turned around to look down at her from his perch on the table. "Hello."

Leafkit's jade-colored eyes widened with surprise and she suddenly spun around, sprinting from the room.

"What'd I do?" Nightpaw asked Redpaw.

"She's our sister," Redpaw explained to him in a low tone. "She's been talking about you this greenleaf."

"Yeah, she'll want your autograph," Berrytail purred with a sly grin, but a look from his mother made him continue to eat his cat food.

Nightpaw never knew how much he was starting to like this place and he hoped to never go back to the Dursleys. Since Daniel hadn't helped out at all when he was locked up, he never wanted to talk to him ever again.

Berrytail gave a stretch and a massive yawn, "Great StarClan, I'm tired. Best get some shuteye..."

"Oh no you don't!" Hollywhisker snapped when her son tried to leave the table. "It's your own fault you three stayed up late. You three are going to flush out the turkeys; they're getting too bold again." To Nightpaw, she meowed kindly, "You can go get some sleep, dear. You didn't ask them to drive that monster."

But Nightpaw was now fully awake and he wanted to learn how these cats do chores, anything but being a slave to kittypets. "It's okay, ma'am. I want to help out! I've never seen turkey-flushing before."

Hollywhisker purred, "That's sweet of you, Nightpaw, but it's really not one of the most exciting chores here. Now let's see what Gloryhound has to say about the subject." And she leaped onto the shelf and pulled a heavy book from the mound on the bookshelf.

Cherrynose groaned. "Mom, we _know_ how to flush turkeys outta here!" But his mother was too busy reading through the book.

Nightpaw looked at the cover of Hollywhisker's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words _Gloryhound Lockhart's Guide to Household Vermin_. On the front was a handsome creamy brown tom with bright blue eyes. As usual in the warrior cat world, the photograph was moving; the cat, who Nightpaw guessed was Gloryhound Lockhart, kept winking cheekily up at them all.

Hollywhisker beamed down at him. "Oh, he is _wonderful_," she purred. "He knows his household vermin, all right. It's a wonderful book..."

"It's because Mom likes him," Berrytail growled in a very clear whisper.

The ginger tabby looked uncomfortable as she hissed, "Well, if you think you know better than him, you can go and get on with it. And if there's a single turkey in that garden when I come out to inspect it, you'll pay the price."

Yawning and grumbling, the Weasley tomcats slouched outside with Nightpaw skipping behind them. The garden was large, and in Nightpaw's eyes, exactly what a garden should look like. The Dursleys wouldn't like it; of course there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed to be cut, but there were knotty trees all around the walls, plants he had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs. Finally, they were out on the front lawn, which was in front of one of the lakes.

"You know, Twolegs use turkeys for Thanksgiving," he told Redpaw as they padded across the lawn.

"I've seen those fat birds they think are turkeys," Redpaw replied, bent double with his head in a rose bush. "They look like fat chickens with warbles."

There was a violent scuffling noise, the rose bush shuddered, and Redpaw plunged his head into the bush before he straightened up. "Now_ this_ is a turkey," he added grimly through a mouthful of bird.

The turkey began gobbling and flailing around in his jaws wildly.

It was certainly nothing like a Thanksgiving turkey. It was small and brown-feathered all over with a large fleshy wattle on its face. Redpaw held it away from him as it kicked out at him with its blunt talons; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.

"This is what you do," he instructed. He took the turkey to a catapult and started to operate on the machine as it readied to launch. Seeing the shocked look on Nightpaw's face, he added, "Don't worry; it won't hurt them. Just make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the bushes."

He let go of the string on the catapult and it flew twenty fox-lengths into the air, landing with a thud in the field over the hedge.

Berrytail padded over to them, shaking his head. "Pitiful. I can get mine beyond that stump. Just you wait!"

Then they went right to work. Nightpaw learned quickly to not feel sorry for the turkeys. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the turkey sensed a weakness and sunk its talons into Nightpaw's ear. He had a hard job shaking it off until...

"Great StarClan! Fifty fox-lengths? That's a new record!"

The air was soon thick with flying turkeys, either they were launched quickly by the catapult or they just wanted to try and "fly" themselves.

"Stupid birds. No matter they're always being eaten," Cherrynose commented, launching five turkeys at a time. "The moment they know this is going on, they come over here to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay behind."

Soon, the flock of turkeys in the field started walking away in a sprawling line, their little small heads whirling around in confusion and tottering as hard as their fat little legs could carry them.

As the cats watched the turkeys disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field, Redpaw mewed. "They love it here, so they'll be around here often. Dad's too soft with them; he thinks that they're funny."

Just then, the front door slammed and the three ginger cats pricked their ears up. Nightpaw could tell that their father must be home. So they hurried through the garden and back into the house.

Weaseltail Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his fur ruffled up and his eyes closed. He was a thin tomcat with gray patches, but the other patches were as ginger as any of his kits'. He was wearing a long green cape around his neck, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"What a night," he was mumbling as he reached out for a mouse as they sat down around them. "There have been nine raids. Nine! And old Dung Fletcher tried to put a curse on me when I had my back turned..." Then he took a bite out of the mouse and sighed.

"You find anything interesting, Dad?" Berrytail eagerly asked him.

Weaseltail yawned, "Well, all I got were a few shrinking pens and a biting pot. There was some pretty malevolent stuff that wasn't my department, though. One cat was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd elk, but that's the Commission on Experimental Charms, thank StarClan..."

"But why would anyone want to make pens shrink?" Cherrynose asked him.

"It's just kittypet-baiting. Sell them a pen that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. Yes it's very hard to convict anyone because no Twoleg wants them to shrink; they insist they keep losing one. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to pay no heed to magic, even if it stares them in the eyes. But the things our lot has taken to charming, you would not believe..."

"Like MONSTERS?"

Hollywhisker had just appeared, holding a long poker in her jaws like a sword. Weaseltail's blue eyes jerked open as he stared uncomfortably at his mate.

"M-monsters, dear?"

Her amber eyes flashing, the ginger tabby growled, "Yes, I'm talking about monsters. Imagine a Twoleg buying a rusty old car and her cat telling his mate that all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, but he was just enchanting it to make it fly."

Weaseltail blinked. "Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if he perhaps would have done better to...tell his mate the truth. There's an excuse in the law, you'll find that. As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car on purpose, the fact that the monster could fly wouldn't..."

"Weaseltail, you made sure there was an excuse when you wrote that law!" Hollywhisker spat. "Just so you could carry on fooling around with all that Twoleg junk in your shed! And for your information, a friend of your sons arrived this morning in the monster that you weren't intending to fly!"

"A friend?" Weaseltail repeated blankly. He looked around and asked Nightpaw, "Who are you?"

Remembering who he was talking to, Nightpaw replied, "I'm Nightpaw, sir. Nightpaw Potter."

Weaseltail's blue eyes widened as he rasped, "Great StarClan above, are you?" He dipped his head to him and mewed, "It's an honor to meet you. Redpaw told us so much about you!" To his mate, he asked her, "When did he arrive?"

"This morning. Your sons flew that monster to Nightpaw's Twolegplace and back again last night!" Hollywhisker snapped.

"Did you really?" the ginger/gray tom meowed keenly. "Was it great? I...I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from his mate's eyes, "that was very wrong of you...very wrong indeed..."

As Hollywhisker continued glaring at her mate, Redpaw leaned in towards Nightpaw and whispered, "Come on, I'll show you my room."

They slipped out of the kitchen as silent as shadows and down a thin hall to a rough staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up throughout the house. On the third floor, a door stood half closed. Nightpaw just caught sight of the small ginger she-kit staring at him before she closed the door.

"You don't know how weird it is for Leafkit to be this shy," Redpaw muttered to Nightpaw. "She never shuts up in general; she's usually energetic."

The two apprentices climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small sign on it, saying REDPAW'S ROOM.

Nightpaw stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into an oven: nearly everything in this room seemed to be a fierce shade of red. Then Nightpaw saw that Redpaw had covered nearly every inch of the scruffy wallpaper with posters of the same seven warriors, all wearing bright orange capes, flapping bird's wings, and waving their tails vigorously.

"Is that your AirBall team?" Nightpaw asked his friend

"Yeah. It's the Alabama Gators," Redpaw responded, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black A's and an alligator mascot. "They're ninth in the league."

The American Shorthair's school spell books were stacked messily in a corner, next to a pile of comic books that all seemed to feature The Adventures of Charles Collins, the Crazy Catfish. Redpaw's tail-wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his big fat gray mouse, Scrapper, who was sleeping in a patch of sun.

Nightpaw jumped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below, he could see the lakes from a spectacular view; he could also see a gang of turkeys running one by one back through the hedge. Then he turned to look at his friend, who was watching him almost tensely as if waiting for his opinion.

"Yeah, it may be a bit small," the ginger cat mewed quickly. "It's not like that room you had with those kittypets. And I'm right underneath the Bigfoot in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning and stuff."

But Nightpaw, grinning broadly, purred, "Are you kidding? This is the best nest that I've ever been in!"

Redpaw didn't say anything, but he did purr and his blue eyes were flashing with friendliness and gratitude. Nightpaw felt that this felt more like at home than with Daniel...even though he would want to return to the Forest and ignore Bobby's warning.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**Ron: Okay, it may not be as long as I thought it would be, but it's the longest chapter, right?**

**AvatarCat11: Yeah, you're right. Plus, my birthday is just in two more weeks. I can't wait till I turn 18!**

**Ron: Really? In the Wizarding World, we come to age at the age of 17.**

**AvatarCat11: (Sighs) I wish I could vote at the age of 17. But enough of that! How about we say the review thing?**

**Ron: Sure! (To the readers) So far, snowwhistle and a few others have reviewed and some other people ought to review soon! Or else I'm gonna release Pigwidgeon on them! He's SO annoying!**

**AvatarCat11: I don't think they'll thank you for that. But anyone who reviews will receive some virtual hot pockets. They're pepperoni pizza flavored!**

**AvatarCat11 and Ron: See ya next time!**


	4. At Blooming and Weeds

**AvatarCat11: We're nearly done with the school year and my birthday was three days ago.**

**Harry: (Comes into the room, smiling) Happy late Birthday, AvatarCat! And I'm kind of jealous 'cause you've had good birthdays.**

**AvatarCat11: (Pats Harry on the shoulder) I'm sorry to hear that, buddy. But you've spent some good birthdays with the Weasleys, right? Especially with Ginny, right?**

**Harry: (Blushes) Y...yeah. So how about I say the disclaimer for right now?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure. Plus, I got my birthday surprise already a week ago. I got kissed on the lips by Holly and Katara twice. They even kissed me on the lips at the same time!**

**Harry: (Surprised) Wow. Anyways...**

**Disclaimer: AvatarCat11 will never own my series or Warrior Cats. We wizards belong to J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter owns Warriors.**

**Updating Date: May 1, 2011 (Today's the first day of May, and tomorrow will be twelve years since Voldemort got defeated once and for all!)**

**AvatarCat11 and Harry: Enjoy!**

**...**

_At Blooming and Weeds_

Life at the Tunnels was very much different than the life Evergreen Avenue. The Dursley cats liked everything perfect, neat, and ordered; the Weasley cats' house burst with the strange and the surprising.

Nightpaw got quite a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen bookshelf and it shouted at him, "Lick your tail clean, messy!" The Bigfoot in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt that things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from the twins' bedroom were considered perfectly normal. But what Nightpaw found most unusual about life at Redpaw's place, however, wasn't the talking mirror or the clanking Bigfoot: It was the fact that everybody there liked him.

Hollywhisker fussed over the state of his fur and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Samantha, the Weasley cats' owner, had healed the wounds he received from Uncle Bristle since she was an expert healer. And Weaseltail wanted Nightpaw to sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could shower him with questions about life with kittypets, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the mail service worked.

"Fascinating," he would meow as Nightpaw talked him through using a cell phone. "It's clever, really, about how many ways Twolegs and kittypets have found of getting along without magic and the life of a wildcat. Since you know well of kittypets, tell me, what exactly is the purpose of a rubber duck?"

**...**

Nightpaw heard from the Forest one sunny morning about a quarter-moon after he had arrived at the Tunnels. He and Redpaw went downstairs to breakfast to find Redpaw's parents and Leafkit already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment that she saw the black cat, Leafkit by chance knocked her cat food bowl to the floor with a loud clang.

The small ginger she-cat seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Nightpaw entered the same room that she was in. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun and the food bowl in her jaws. Pretending he didn't notice this, Nightpaw sat down and politely took the blueberry biscuit that Hollywhisker offered him.

"We got some letters from school," Weaseltail meowed, giving Nightpaw and Redpaw identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Silverstar already knows you're here, Nightpaw; he always knows a trick, that cat. You two have got them, too," he added, as Berrytail and Cherrynose moseyed in, still looking sleepy.

For a few minutes, there was silence as they all read their letters. Nightpaw's list told him to go to the Forest Express as usual from King's Cross station on September the first. There was also a list of the new books that he would need for the coming year.

_SECOND-YEAR APPRENTICES WILL REQUIRE:_

_The Standard Book of Hexes, Grade 2 by Goshawk_

_Break with a Baboon by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Gallivanting with Guars by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Holidays with Hippos by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Travels with Tigers by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Voyages with Vultures by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Wanderings with Wolves by Gloryhound Lockhart_

_Year with Yaks by Gloryhound Lockhart_

Berrytail, who had finished his own list, peered over at Nightpaw's list. "Looks like you get to get all his books, too!" he announced. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor must be a fan; I bet you a mouse-tail it's a she-cat."

But at this point, the ginger tom caught his mother's eye and quickly busied himself with the jelly on his salmon.

"But it won't be cheap," Cherrynose meowed, looking over at his parents. "Gloryhound's books are really expensive."

"We'll manage,"" Hollywhisker reassured her son, but she also looked worried. "I suppose we'll be able to pick up a lot of Leafkit's things recycled."

Nightpaw looked over at Leafkit and asked her kindly, "So you're going to your first year at the Forest this year?"

She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming ginger fur, and put her left paw in the butter dish. Fortunately, no one saw this except for Nightpaw, because just then, Redpaw's elder brother Sandthorn padded into the kitchen. He was already dressed up in his Forest cape, his Forest prefect badge pinned to his cape collar.

"Morning, everyone," the curly-haired ginger tom mewed briskly. "Lovely weather we're having today."

Then he sat down in the only remaining chair, but he leapt up again almost at once, looking out at the window. Nightpaw didn't know what was going on until they saw a small blur of brown dive towards them. It was a Burrowing Owl, flying towards them, but it flew too fast and crashed into the window.

"Dodo!" Redpaw breathed, taking the limp owl inside and taking a letter from under its wing. "It's about time! He got Fawnpaw's answer. I wrote to her saying about how we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursley cats."

He carried the Burrowing Owl to a branch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Dodo flopped straight off again. So Redpaw laid him on the counter instead, muttering, "Sad, isn't it?" Then he ripped open Fawnpaw's letter and read it out loud:

"'_Dear Redpaw, and Nightpaw if you're there,_

"'_I hope everything went all right and that Nightpaw is okay. I hope you didn't do anything bad to get him out, Redpaw, because that'll get him into trouble, too._

"'_You know, I've been really worried and if Nightpaw is all right, will you please let me know at once? But I think you should use a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your old one off._

"'_I'm very busy at the moment with schoolwork, of course...'"_

"How can she?" Redpaw gasped in horror. "We're on vacation!"

"'_...and we're going to Juneau next quarter-moon to purchase my new school books. Why don't we three meet in Dragon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can._

"'_Love from, Fawnpaw.'"_

"Well, that fits it in well. We can go and get all your things then, too," Hollywhisker purred, helping Samantha clear the table. "So what're you all up to today?"

Nightpaw, Redpaw, Berrytail, and Cherrynose were planning to set out near one lake to a small corral that Samantha owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the town of Gustavus below, meaning that they could practice their AirBall skills there, as long as they didn't fly too high. If they did, then Twolegs would start seeing flying cats, which they thought weren't real at all.

They couldn't use the real AirBall balls, which would have been hard to explain if they escaped and flown away over the town. So instead, they threw wild apples for one another to catch. They took turns riding Nightpaw's Icarus Three Thousand, which was easily the best set of racing wings; Redpaw's old Flashing Comet was often outshined by passing butterflies.

Five minutes later, they were marching up the hill, wings flapping in the cool air. They had asked Sandthorn if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Nightpaw had only seen the curly-furred American Shorthair at meals so far; so far, he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.

"I wish I knew what he was up to," Berrytail mused, frowning. "He's not himself lately. His exam results came around the day before you did; he got twelve O.W.L.s and he barely bragged at all."

"O.W.L stands for Ordinary Warrior Levels," Cherrynose explained when he saw Nightpaw's bewildered look. "Birdstorm got twelve, too. And if we're not careful, we'll have another Head Cat in the family. I don't think I'll stand the shame."

Birdstorm was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Clawfoot, had already left the Forest. Nightpaw had never met either of these cats, but knew that Clawfoot was in Africa, studying griffins and other strange animals while Birdstorm was in England working for the warrior bank, Liverpool.

"I don't know how Mom and Dad are going to get money for our school stuff this year," Berrytail meowed after a while. "We have a list of five sets of Gloryhound books! And Leafkit needs her cape and a tail-wand and everything."

But Nightpaw didn't say anything to them. He felt a bit uncomfortable about hearing this. Stored in an underground vault at Liverpool in Juneau was a small fortune that his parents had left him after they died.

Of course, it was only in the warrior world that he had enough money; of course a cat couldn't use Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts in some Twoleg shops. He had never mentioned his Liverpool bank account to the Dursley cats; he didn't want them to think that their repulsion of everything linked with magic would stretch to a large pile of gold.

**...**

Hollywhisker woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon and egg sandwiches each, they pulled on their travel capes and Hollywhisker took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Weaseltail," she sighed. "Looks like we'll have to buy some more today... Oh well, guests first! After you, Nightpaw dear!"

And she offered him the flowerpot. But Nightpaw just stood there and stared at them all as they were watching him.

He stammered, "Um...what am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, sorry, buddy," Redpaw apologized quickly to his friend. To his parents, he added, "He's never travelled by Floo powder before."

"Never?" Weaseltail gasped with mild surprise. "But how did you get to Dragon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

Nightpaw meowed, "Well, I went through the Underground Subway with Badgerstripe..."

Weaseltail's blue eyes lit with enthusiasm as he purred, "Really? Were there any 'escapators' there? How do they..."

"Not now, Weaseltail," Hollywhisker mewed. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but if you've never used it before..."

"He'll be all right, Mom," Berrytail meowed. "Just watch us first, Nightpaw."

He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot with his tail, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned into an emerald green color and rose higher than Berrytail, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Dragon Alley!" and vanished as fast as they could blink.

"Just speak clearly, dear," Hollywhisker told Nightpaw as Cherrynose dug his tail into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate..."

Nightpaw looked at the ginger tabby queen nervously as the fire roared and whipped Cherrynose out of sight, too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of warrior fires to choose from, you know. But as long as you've spoken clearly..."

Weaseltail reassured his mate while helping himself to Floo powder too, "Oh, he'll be fine, dear. Don't worry."

"But if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"

Nightpaw reassured her, "Oh, don't worry. They won't mind. Tubby would think that it'd be a great joke if I got lost up a chimney. Don't worry about that..."

Hollywhisker's yellowish-brown eyes glowed with worry as if she didn't find this funny, but she meowed, "Well... all right... you go after Weaseltail. Now when you get into the fire, say where you're going."

"And keep your tail tucked in," Redpaw advised.

"And your eyes shut," Hollywhisker added.

Redpaw meowed, "Don't fidget or you'll fall out of the wrong fireplace."

"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Berrytail and Cherrynose."

Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Nightpaw took a pinch of Floo powder in his tail and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze and he opened his mouth, immediately swallowing a lot of hot ash.

"Dragonally," he coughed.

It felt as though he was being sucked down a large river. He seemed to be spinning very fast; the roaring in his ears was deafening. He tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick; something hard hit his tail and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning.

Now it felt as though cold large paws were slapping his face; squinting hard, he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond...his breakfast was churning inside him...he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then...

He could hear Hollywhisker meow, "What did he say?"

"Dragonally," Weaseltail replied.

"Oh. I thought he did say that," Hollywhisker mewed.

**...**

Nightpaw fell, face forward, onto cold stone, and felt his tail break like a branch.

Dizzy and bruised and covered in soot, he got gingerly to his paws, trying to keep his tail off of the ground. He was quite alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit warrior shop...but there was nothing in here that was ever likely to be on a Forest school list.

A glass case nearby held a withered snake skeleton on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks were staring down from the walls, a range of Twoleg bones lay upon the counter, and rusty spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the sinister narrow road Nightpaw could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Dragon Alley.

The young black cat decided to try and poke at the skeleton, but when it latched onto his broken tail, he let out a hiss as he leaped away.

The sooner he got out of here, the better. His tail still throbbing from where it had hit the hearth, Nightpaw made his way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before he got halfway toward it, two cats appeared on the other side of the glass. And one of them was the very last cat that he wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and having a broken bleeding tail: Icepaw Malfoy.

Nightpaw looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through.

Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Icepaw strolled into the shop. The cat that followed could only be his father; he had the same sneering broad face, identical cold gray eyes, and the same black-&-silver tabby fur.

Blizzardclaw Malfoy crossed the shop, looking indolently at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and meowing, "Don't touch anything, Icepaw."

Icepaw, who had reached for the glass eye, complained, "But I thought you were going to buy me a present."

"I said I would buy you wings," his father retorted, swishing his tail from side to side.

"But what's the good of that if I'm not on the Clan team?" Icepaw spat, looking glum and crabby. "That Potter got an Icarus Three Thousand last year. It's 'special permission' from the leader so he could play for LionClan. He's not that much of a player. It's because he's famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead..."

The smaller silver tabby bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. "...everyone thinks he's so special. 'Wonderful' Potter with his scar and his wings..."

Blizzardclaw mewed with a quelling look at his son, "You told me this many times already. And I would remind you that it is not...sensible...to appear less than caring of Nightpaw Potter, not when most of our kind view him as the hero who made the Dark Bear vanish. Ah, Mr. Borgin."

A stooping black-&-brown tom had appeared behind the counter, licking his paw and swiping it over his ears.

"Nice to see you again, Blizzardclaw," meowed Borgin in a voice as slippery as his bicolored fur. "Delighted...and young Master Malfoy, too...charmed. How may I help you? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced..."

"Oh, I'm not buying anything today, Mr. Borgin, but I'm just selling," Blizzardclaw replied.

The smile faded a little from Borgin's face. "Selling?"

Blizzardclaw took a roll of parchment from his cape pocket and unraveled it for Borgin to read. "So you have heard, of course, that the Government is performing several more raids. I have a few...items at home that might shame me, if the Government was to call..."

Borgin licked his nose and looked down the list. "The Government wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?"

Blizzardclaw's lip curled. "I have not been visited yet. The surname Malfoy still owns a certain respect, yet the Government grows ever more interfering. There are rumors about a new Kittypet Protection Act; no doubt that filthy, kittypet-loving fool Weaseltail Weasley is behind this."

Nightpaw grew angry about this. _So what?_

"...and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear..."

"I understand, sir, of course," Borgin mewed. "Let's see..."

"Can I have that?" Icepaw interrupted, pointing at the withered snake skeleton on its cushion.

Borgin purred, abandoning Blizzardclaw's list of stuff and scurrying over to Icepaw. "Ah, that's the Snake of Glory! Put a candle in the eye sockets and it gives light only to the holder! It's the best friend of robbers and pirates! Your son has fine taste, sir."

"I hope that my son will become more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin," Blizzardclaw hissed coldly, and Borgin added quickly, "No offense, sir. No offense meant at all..."

Blizzardclaw growled more coldly, "Though if his grades don't start picking up, that may indeed be all that he will be..."

"It's not my fault," Icepaw retorted bitterly. "The teachers all have their favorites, like that stupid Fawnpaw Granger!"

"Oh, I would have thought that you would be ashamed that a she-cat with no warrior blood beat you in every test," Blizzardclaw snapped, cuffing his son's head.

Nightpaw purred under his breath, pleased to see that Icepaw looked both ashamed and irritated. Fawnpaw was one of his best friends and she was about the smartest she-cat that he and Redpaw ever knew. The Golden Trio had been friends since they saved her from a woolly mammoth.

"Oh, it's the same all over," Borgin meowed in his greasy voice. "Warrior blood is counting for less everywhere."

"Not with me," Blizzardclaw growled, his gray eyes narrowing.

"No, sir. Nor with me, sir," Borgin purred with a deep bow.

After a few seconds of silence, Blizzardclaw began, "In that case, perhaps we should return to my list. I am in sort of a hurry, Borgin. I have important business somewhere else today."

The two adult cats started to negotiate while Icepaw explored. Nightpaw watched apprehensively as the British Shorthair drew nearer to his hiding place, examining the items that were for sale. Icepaw paused to look at a long coil of rope and to read, smirking; the card propped on a superb necklace of opals read, _Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed! It Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Twoleg Owners to Date._

Icepaw turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward; he stretched out his front paw for the handle...and...

"All right. I'm finished," Blizzardclaw declared at the counter. "Come, Icepaw." Nightpaw sighed with relief as Icepaw turned away. "Good day to you, Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor house tomorrow to pick up the goods."

The moment the door had closed, Borgin dropped his greasy manner. "Good day back at you, Malfoy. And if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor..." Muttering darkly, the black-&-brown tom disappeared into a back room.

Nightpaw waited for a minute for fear that he came back, and then he slipped quietly out of the cupboard, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door. Keeping his tail raised, he stared around.

He had emerged into a dirty alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one he'd just left, Borgin and Claws, looked like the largest, but on the opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black cockroaches.

Two shabby-looking gray cats were watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling frightened, Nightpaw set off, trying to hold his tail up straight and hoping against hope that he would be able to find a way out of here.

An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling toxic candles told him he was in Shadow Alley. This didn't help at all, since Nightpaw had never heard of such a place before. He thought that he didn't speak clearly enough through his mouthful of ashes back in the Weasley cats' fire. Trying to stay composed, he wondered what to do.

"Not lost, are you?" a voice hissed in his ear, making him jump.

An old black she-cat with a gray muzzle stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole Twoleg front toes. She leered at him, showing dirty yellow fangs. The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix backed away slowly.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," he said. "I'm just..."

"Nightpaw!"

Nightpaw's heart leapt for joy while the she-cat leaped in horror. Many Twoleg front toes fell down over her feet and she cursed as the massive form of Badgerstripe Hagrid, the gamekeeper of the Forest, came leaping through the crowd toward them, his dark amber eyes flashing like fire and his white stripes glowing pale in the candlelight.

"Badgerstripe!" Nightpaw croaked in relief.

Badgerstripe stared down at him as he asked him, "What do yeh think yer doin' down there? Come on!"

The she-cat leaped forward as Nightpaw tried to get away, but Badgerstripe seized him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from the she-cat, knocking the tray out of her jaws. Her screams followed them all the way along the slanting alley out into brilliant warm sunshine. Nightpaw saw a familiar white marble building in the distance: Liverpool Bank. Badgerstripe had steered him right into Dragon Alley.

"Yer a mess, Nightpaw!" Badgerstripe meowed curtly, brushing soot off him so powerfully that he nearly knocked him into a pile of dog dung. "Prowlin' in Shadow Alley, I don't know. It's a crooked place, Nightpaw. Don't want no one ter see yeh down there. Cats will think yeh'll be up to no good!"

"I know that now," Nightpaw mewed, leaping away as the big black tom made to brush him off again. "I told you that I was lost and...wait. What were you doing down there, anyway?"

Badgerstripe looked at him. "Who, me? Well, I was lookin' fer a Flesh-Eatin' Snail Repellent. They're destroyin' the school lettuces."

Nightpaw mewed, "Well, I'm staying with the Weasley cats, but we got separated. I have to go and find them."

Then the two tomcats set off together down the street, feeling like it was last year all over again.

**...**

"So why didn't ya write back ter me?" Badgerstripe asked as Nightpaw ran beside him (he had to take three steps to every stride of his large paws). The smaller black cat explained everything about Bobby and the Dursley cats.

When Nightpaw finished, Badgerstripe snarled, "Damn kittypets. If I would've known about it, I would've shoved a stick up their..."

"Nightpaw! Over here!"

Nightpaw looked up and saw a familiar cat: Fawnpaw Granger, who was standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Liverpool. The Angora mix rushed down to meet them, her bushy light brown tabby fur flying behind her. Badgerstripe purred a greeting in response with an enthusiastic nudge.

Fawnpaw licked Nightpaw on his face and looked at his broken tail. "What the hell happened to your tail?"

She reached around him, touched his broken bleeding tail with her own, and the pain was gone as the bone in his tail mended together again. Nightpaw flicked it around happily and felt that it was as good as new.

"I definitely need to remember that one," he purred.

Fawnpaw purred back at him before turning to Badgerstripe. "Hey, Badgerstripe! It's so great to see you two again! Are you coming into Liverpool, Nightpaw?"

Nightpaw told her about the Weasley cats.

"Good news, buddy. Yeh won't have to wait for that long," Badgerstripe purred with a smile.

Both LionClan apprentices looked around: galloping up the jam-packed Thunderpath were some of the Weasley cats: Redpaw, Berrytail, Cherrynose, Sandthorn, and Weaseltail.

"Nightpaw!" Weaseltail panted as the ginger-furred cats caught up. "Thank StarClan! We were hoping that you had only gone one grate too far..." He licked his chest fur quickly as he went on, "Hollywhisker was getting so frantic; she's coming now..."

"So where'd you appear at?" Redpaw asked his friend.

Badgerstripe looked back as he muttered grimly, "I found him at Shadow Alley."

Both Berrytail and Cherrynose purred with mischief dancing in their eyes while Sandthorn rolled his eyes at them. Nightpaw almost found himself agreeing with him; that alley was one place he did not want to return to.

"We've never been allowed in," Redpaw replied resentfully.

"I should think not," Badgerstripe growled.

All of the cats turned around to hear pawsteps racing frantically towards them. Hollywhisker was now sprinting into view, her purse swinging wildly in her jaws. Leafkit was running behind her mother to catch up just in time.

"Nightpaw!" Hollywhisker panted, covering him in motherly licks. "Oh, my dear, you could have been anywhere!"

Gasping for breath, she pulled a large cloth out of her bag with her jaws and began sweeping off the soot that Badgerstripe didn't manage to brush away. Weaseltail looked at Nightpaw's bloody tail, giving it a tap with his own tail-wand; Nightpaw felt his tail feel much cleaner than it had when he accidentally got separated. He made a mental note to try and remember that spell too.

Badgerstripe was being thanked over and over again by Hollywhisker, who was frantic when she heard of Nightpaw by chance ending up in Shadow Alley. "Well, I better be off, then. Be seein' yeh at the Forest!" And he treaded away, his figure much larger than any other cat in the packed street.

"Hey, guess who I saw in Borgin's shop?" Nightpaw asked the two other Golden Trio members as they padded the Liverpool Bank steps. "I saw Icepaw and his father."

"Did Blizzardclaw buy anything?" Weaseltail interrogated him sharply behind them.

"No. He was selling stuff."

Weaseltail began purring with grim satisfaction. "Excellent. So he's worried, eh? Oh, I can't wait to catch that bastard at something."

"I'd be careful if I were you," Hollywhisker meowed sharply to her mate as they were bowed into the bank by a snub-nosed monkey at the door. "That family's nothing but trouble. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"Do you really think I'm no match for Blizzardclaw Malfoy?" her mate retorted indignantly.

Fortunately, he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Fawnpaw's house pet parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for their daughter to introduce them. Fawnpaw's father was a light brown tabby Turkish Angora while her mother was a silver tabby-&-white British Angora.

"But you're kittypets! I'm your daughter's friend's father," Weaseltail purred gleefully, padding over to greet them. "We must have a drink sometime! What's that you've got? Oh, that's some Twoleg money your Twoleg's changing! Look, Hollywhisker!" He pointed his tail excitedly at the fifty dollars in Fawnpaw's owner's hand.

"We'll meet you back out here. Okay?" Redpaw mumbled to Fawnpaw as the Weasley cats and Nightpaw were led off to their underground vaults by another Liverpool monkey.

**...**

The vaults were reached by small monkey-driven carts that sped along small train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Nightpaw enjoyed the immediate journey down to the Weasley cats' vault, but now he felt bad, far worse than he had in Shadow Alley when a monkey opened it. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon.

Hollywhisker felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. Nightpaw felt very ashamed of himself when they reached his vault. He tried to block the contents from view as he hastily shoved pawfuls of coins into a leather bag. To him, it wasn't fair that they were poor while he had all of this money; he felt that he ought to share some with them, but he was certain that they would refuse.

Back outside on the marble steps, all of the cats separated. Sandthorn muttered indistinctly about needing a new quill. Berrytail and Cherrynose had spotted their black-&-white friend from the Forest, Quicktongue Jordan. Hollywhisker and Leafkit were going to a secondhand robe shop while Weaseltail was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Dripping Pot for a drink.

"All right, then. We'll all meet at Blooming and Weeds in an hour to buy your schoolbooks," Hollywhisker instructed them, setting off with Leafkit. "And I don't want to hear one paw step or smell any scent down Shadow Alley!" she shouted at the twins' retreating backs.

The Golden Trio, finally reunited, strolled off along the snaking cobblestone road. The bag of gold, silver, and bronze rattling optimistically in Nightpaw's bag was crying to be spent, so he bought three large cookies-&-cream ice creams, which they licked happily from portable bowls as they roamed up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows.

Redpaw gazed sadly at a set of Alabama Gator robes in the windows of Class AirBall Supplies until Fawnpaw dragged them off to buy ink and scrolls next door. In Greentrees and Flowstones Warrior Joke Shop, they met Berrytail, Cherrynose, and Quicktongue, who were stocking up on Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks.

And in a tiny junk shop full of scratched tail-wands, lopsided brass scales, and old capes covered in potion stains, they found Sandthorn profoundly absorbed in a small and totally uninteresting book called Prefects Who Gained Power.

"'A study of Forest prefects and their later careers,'" Redpaw read aloud off the back cover very sarcastically. "That sounds _interesting_..."

"Do you mind?" Sandthorn snapped, glaring at them.

As they left him with his business, Redpaw took Nightpaw and Fawnpaw to the side and he told them this in an undertone: "Well, that brother of mind's really ambitious; he's already getting his future planned out. He wants to be the next Governor of Warriorism."

An hour later, they headed for Blooming and Weeds. They were not in the slightest the only cats making their way to the bookshop. As they padded to it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd of cats jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large poster stretched across the upper windows:

_GLORYHOUND LOCKHART_

_will be signing copies of his autobiography_

_VERY IMPORTANT ME_

_Today at 12:30P.M.-4:30P.M._

"Yes! We get to meet him!" Fawnpaw squealed, jumping up and down. "He's written almost the entire booklist!"

The crowd of cats seemed to be made up mostly of she-cats around Mrs. Hollywhisker's age. A stressed-looking gray tabby warrior stood at the door, saying, "Calmly, please! Now don't push, there! Mind those books, now!"

The Golden trio squeezed inside and gasped with surprise. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gloryhound Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Hexes, Grade 2, and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasley cats were standing with Fawnpaw's interested-looking parents.

"Oh, there you are! Good," Hollywhisker purred. The ginger tabby queen sounded out of breath and kept licking her own tail clean. "We'll see him in a minute."

Finally, Gloryhound Lockhart strolled slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by outsized pictures of his own appearance, all winking and flashing vividly white teeth at the crowd. The real Gloryhound was wearing a cape of sky blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed hat was set at a dashing point of view on his wiry cream-colored fur.

A short bad-tempered brown tabby was dancing around, taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of lavender smoke with every blinding spark. Nightpaw never knew why cats like this always did that.

"You! Out of the way!" he snarled at Redpaw, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Warrior!"

"So fucking what?" Redpaw retorted, licking his paw where the photographer had stepped on it.

Gloryhound Lockhart heard him. The Cornish Rex looked up. He saw Redpaw...and then he saw Nightpaw. He stared, and then he leapt to his paw, optimistically shouting in a pompous way, "Is it really Nightpaw Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Gloryhound pounced forward, seized Nightpaw's tail quite painfully, and pulled him to the front. No matter how hard he wanted to pull away and escape, he couldn't; he now hated all the attention he was receiving. The multitude burst into a round of applause while Nightpaw's face burned with humility as Gloryhound nodded to him for the photographer. He was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasley cats.

"Give a nice big smile, kid," the cream-colored tom purred, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

When he finally let Nightpaw go, the black cat could hardly find his way around. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasley cats, but Gloryhound grabbed his tail once again and pulled him tightly to his side.

"Everyone in the store," he called loudly, waving for quiet. "What an amazing moment this is! It's the perfect moment for me to make a little declaration that I've been waiting for some time! When young Nightpaw stepped into this very store today, he wanted to buy my life story...which I'll happy to present him now for free!" The crowd applauded again before quieting down and hearing more.

"He had _no_ idea," the Cornish Rex continued, giving Nightpaw a little shake that made him want to get away more, "that he'd shortly get much, much more than my book, _Very Important Me_. He and his schoolmates will, indeed, be getting the real very important me. Yes, everyone, I have great enjoyment and pride in announcing that on this September, I shall take up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor at the Forest School of Warriorism this year!"

The crowd cheered and clapped very loudly while Nightpaw found himself being presented with the entire works of Gloryhound Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight and feeling his back ache, he managed to pad his way out of the public eye to the rim of the room, where Leafkit was standing next to her new pot.

"Here. You can have these if you want," Nightpaw panted to her, dumping the books into the pot. "I can buy my own."

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Nightpaw had no trouble recognizing that voice because, in a few moments, Icepaw Malfoy had leaped down from nowhere right when he straightened up. The black-&-silver tabby British Shorthair was wearing his usual sneer on his face; he had an urge to claw it off. But all that they could do is either taunt each other or glare at one another.

Icepaw leered at Nightpaw, who glared right back. Then Icepaw went on, "Famous Potter, who can't even enter a book store without making the front page!"

"Leave him alone," Leafkit suddenly growled calmly, placing herself between the two toms and glaring at him. It was the first time ever, Nightpaw realized, that she had ever really spoken in front of him without trembling.

"Look at that, Potter! You got a girlfriend!" Icepaw mewed in a mocking tone.

The little longhaired American Shorthair quickly looked the other way while Redpaw and Fawnpaw fought their way over, both pulling wagons that consisted of stacks of Gloryhound's books. For a moment, the Golden Trio and Icepaw looked at one another.

"It's you again," Redpaw growled, looking at Icepaw as though he was something unpleasant in between his toes. "Surprised to see him here?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in here, Weasley," Icepaw retorted. "I suppose your parents will have nothing to eat for a moon if they pay for all those."

Redpaw looked just as humiliated as his sister, but he didn't back down, for he was a fighter. He dropped his books into the pot, too, and stalked towards the British Shorthair. But right when he unsheathed his claws, Nightpaw and Fawnpaw grabbed the scruff of his neck and pulled him back.

"Now, now, Icepaw. Play nicely."

Blizzardclaw had entered the shop and laid his tail on his son's shoulder, looking just like Icepaw except that he looked older. Looking at Nightpaw's scar, he commented, "We meet at last. Now, please excuse me for intruding upon your personal space. You scar is a legend to our world. As, of course, is the bear who gave it to you."

"Yes," Nightpaw replied firmly. "But Red Helmet murdered my mother and father. That bear is nothing but a murderer."

"Hmmm," Blizzardclaw remarked, his tail tip twitching sideways. "You must be very brave to mention his name. Or are you foolish?"

"Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself," Fawnpaw put in, seeing the sneer on the older cat's face. "And Nightpaw is right; R-Red Helmet is a murderer."

Nightpaw gasped at her. This was the first time she had ever said Red Helmet's name.

This made Blizzardclaw turn towards her with a disgusted look on his face. "You must be Ms. Granger. My son has told me...things about you and your family. You're kittypets, correct?" He turned towards Redpaw and commented, "Let me see. Ginger fur, empty looks..." he reached his paw into Leafkit's wagon and took out the only book in it. "Shabby used books...you must be the Weasleys."

"Redpaw! What are you doing?" Weaseltail called out, struggling over to his son with Berrytail and Cherrynose right behind him. "It's too crowded in here. Let's go outside."

"Well, well, well. Weasley senior."

Blizzardclaw now padded from his son's side and stood there right in front of the ginger tom, sneering in just the same way. Weaseltail nodded coldly even though he didn't say anything. Nightpaw remembered that Weaseltail and Blizzardclaw were enemies like their sons were to each other.

"I heard you've been kept busy at the Government," Blizzardclaw purred. "And I've also heard about all of those raids. Do they pay you overtime?"

He reached into Leafkit's cauldron and extracted, from amid the polished Gloryhound books, an ancient and very shabby copy of A Beginner's Guide Book To Transfiguration. "Of course. I see they haven't," the tabby tom sneered. "Oh dear, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of a warrior if they don't pay you well for it?"

Weaseltail's blue eyes narrowed until the pupils were just thin black lines. "We have different ideas of what disgraces the name of a warrior, Malfoy."

"Clearly," Blizzardclaw remarked, his pale gray eyes straying to Fawnpaw's parents, who were watching this argument uneasily. "The cats you hang out with, Weasley... And I thought your family could sink no lower."

There was a sudden thud of metal as Leafkit's potion pot went flying. Weaseltail had given a battle cry and had thrown himself at Blizzardclaw, knocking him backward into a bookshelf.

Dozens of heavy spell books came thundering down on all their heads as the two tomcats battled. There were yowls of encouragement from Berrytail or Cherrynose; Hollywhisker was shrieking for her mate to stop fighting, the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over. And the assistant tried to break them up; all seemed lost until...

"Break it up! Break it up!"

Badgerstripe was leaping toward them through the ocean of books as the other cats scattered at his sudden appearance. In an instant, he had pulled the two fighting tomcats apart. Weaseltail had a cut bleeding lip while Blizzardclaw was hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Fungus; his ear was also torn. He was still holding Leafkit's old Transfiguration book, but he thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with cruelty.

"Here! Take your little book! It's the best that your father can give you." Pulling himself out of Badgerstripe's grip, he beckoned to Icepaw and padded to the entrance of the shop. "See you at work," he snarled at Weaseltail before disappearing.

"See you at school," Icepaw added to the Golden Trio before following his father outside.

"You should've ignored him, Weaseltail," Badgerstripe meowed tersely, almost lifting the ginger tom off of his paws as he straightened his coat with furious licks. "You should've ignored him. That whole family's rotten to the core. Everyone knows that! They ain't worth listenin' ter! Bad blood, is all. Now come on. Let's get you guys outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but Badgerstripe was three times bigger than he was, so he seemed to think better. They hurried up the street, Fawnpaw's parents shaking with anxiety and Hollywhisker beside herself with fury.

"That was such a _fine _example to set for your kits! Fighting in public! What would Gloryhound think of all of that?"

"Actually, he was excited," Berrytail mewed. "You should've heard him when we left! He was actually asking that cat from the Daily Warrior if he could work the fight into his report. He said that it was all publicity."

But it was a submissive group that headed back to the fireside in the Dripping Pot, where the young Nightpaw, the Weasley cats, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Tunnels using Floo powder. They said good-bye to Fawnpaw's parents, who were leaving the pub for the Twoleg Thunderpath with their owner on the other side. Weaseltail was just asking them how rubber ducks worked, but he stopped quickly at the stern look on Hollywhisker's face.

Nightpaw held his tail out and tucked it in carefully beneath him before helping himself to Floo powder. It really wasn't his favorite way to travel; he preferred a set of wings like his one and only Icarus Three Thousand.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: It took me a few days to update this because I was getting bored. Plus, there's only seventeen more days until I graduate!**

**Harry: I've heard that you had a good time at your little cake and ice cream party.**

**AvatarCat11: Yeah, and it was a good gathering thing. (To the readers) Since both Brother Bear movies showed up on Disney XD today, whoever reviews will receive either gummy pine cones (Don't worry; they're grape!) or gummy salmon (They're either cherry or green apple flavor.)**

**Harry: You made those up, didn't you? (AvatarCat11 nods) Well, those sound interesting.**

**AvatarCat11 and Harry: See ya next time!**


	5. The Rampaging Rowan

**AvatarCat11: It's been quite a while that I updated Nightfang and the Cavern of Secrets, so it's time that I updated once again. But Harry, Ron, or Hermione aren't going to come for this chapter. Instead, we're going to have a special guest with us today...and Katara and Holly aren't back yet, but they will be!**

**So welcome...Ginny Weasley!**

**Ginny: (Comes into the room) Thanks for having me here, AvatarCat! It's nice to meet you! Harry told me much about your stories and they're so exciting!**

**AvatarCat11: (Shakes her hand) You too. And did Harry or his friends tell you that I graduated?**

**Ginny: They did tell me about that! Congratulations!**

**AvatarCat11: Thanks! Since you're the special guest for today, would you like to say the disclaimer?**

**Ginny: Sure!**

**Disclaimer: AvatarCat11 will never own us witches and wizards from Harry Potter or Warrior Cats!**

**Updating Date: May 31, 2011**

**AvatarCat11: Good job!**

**AvatarCat11 and Ginny: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Rampaging Rowan_

The end of the greenleaf holiday came too quickly for Nightpaw's liking. He looked forward to getting back to the Forest, but his moon at the Tunnels had been the happiest of his entire life. It was hard not to be jealous of Redpaw when he thought of the Dursley cats and the welcome he would get the next time he turned up on the doorstep. He also didn't want to greet Daniel when he would turn up there; he would just make himself be as stubborn as a bulldog and not listen to him at all.

On their last evening there, Hollywhisker fabricated up a mouth-watering dinner that included all of Nightpaw's favorite food, ending with a tasty vanilla pudding. Berrytail and Cherrynose made their finale with a show of fireworks; they filled the kitchen with ruby and sapphire stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last beaker of hot chocolate and off to sleep.

_This is the best place ever, _Nightpaw sighed as he curled his tail over his eyes and fell asleep.

**...**

It took a long while to get started the next sunrise. They were up at dawn, but they still seemed to have a lot to do. Hollywhisker sprinted about in a foul mood looking for extra collars and quills; cats kept colliding on the stairs, half-groomed with fish in their jaws. Weaseltail nearly broke his neck, almost having his tail crushed by a passing boar hog as he crossed the front yard carrying Leafkit's trunk to the monster.

Nightpaw couldn't see how eight cats, one Twoleg, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat would fit into one large Dodge truck, even though it was a big truck. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Weaseltail had added.

"Don't tell Hollywhisker about this," he whispered to the black cat. Then he opened the tool box at the back and showed him how it had been magically extended so that the baggage fitted with no trouble at all.

When at last they were all in the Dodge, Hollywhisker glanced into the back seat, where their sons and Nightpaw were all sitting comfortably side by side.

"Twolegs do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Leafkit got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a bench in the park. "Well, you'd never know it was this spacious from the outside, would you?"

Then Weaseltail started up the engine while Samantha did most of the driving and they trundled out of the yard, Nightpaw turning back for a last look at the Twoleg nest. Just when he started to wonder when he would see it again...they were back again; Cherrynose forgot his fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Berrytail could run in for his set of wings. They had almost reached the highway when Leafkit was wailing that she left her new journal behind.

By the time she had scrambled back into the monster, they were running very late, and irritation was running high.

Weaseltail glanced at the time on the dashboard and at his mate. "Hollywhisker..."

"No, Weaseltail!"

"I promise no one would see! This little button is an Invisibility Booster that I installed. It'll get us up in the air, and then we'll fly above the clouds. We could be there in ten minutes and no one would know!"

But Hollywhisker hissed, "I said NO. Not in broad daylight. And not in front of Twolegs or kittypets."

**...**

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven; Nightpaw felt nostalgic since this was how he got to the Forest for the first time ever; that was when he had went with Badgerstripe to receive his ticket for the Forest train. Weaseltail dashed across the road to get carts for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

Nightpaw had gotten onto the Forest Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform seven and a half, which wasn't visible to the kittypet or Twoleg eye. What you had to do was pad through the concrete barrier dividing platforms seven and eight. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that no one could see you vanishing.

"You go first, Sandthorn," Hollywhisker mewed, looking nervously at the clock overhead. It showed that they had only five minutes to vanish unceremoniously through the barrier.

So Sandthorn marched vigorously forward and vanished. Leafkit went next after her brother; Berrytail and Cherrynose followed while their parents went together. In the blink of an eye, the other Weasley cats were gone.

"Let's go together. We have one minute," Redpaw told Nightpaw.

Nightpaw made sure that Katara's cage was securely lodged on top of his trunk and wheeled his cart around to face the barrier. He felt completely confident now; this wasn't nearly as rough as using Floo powder. Both of them pulled hard on the strings of their carts and walked with resolve toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few tail-lengths away from it, they broke into a run and...

CRASH!

Both cats hit the barrier and bounced backward; Redpaw's trunk fell off of the cart with a loud thump, Nightpaw was knocked off his paws, and Katara's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, rolling away and shrieking indignantly; Twolegs all around them stared and a guard cat nearby yelled, "Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry! Lost control of the cart!" Nightpaw gasped, feeling his ribs with his front paw as he got up.

As the guard stomped away while muttering something, Redpaw ran to pick up Katara, who was causing such a racket that there was a lot of muttering about lack of dogs to chase the cats away from the surrounding crowd of Twolegs.

"Why can't we get through?" Nightpaw hissed to his friend when he got back from retrieving the owl.

"I don't know." The ginger American Shorthair kneaded his paws nervously on the platform and looked around. A dozen curious Twolegs and kittypets were still watching them.

"We'll miss the train," Redpaw groaned whispered. "I don't know why the gateway's shut itself up."

Nightpaw looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds...nine seconds... He pulled his own cart forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.

Three seconds...two seconds...one second...

"It's gone," he hissed "It's eleven a.m. We missed it!"

Redpaw sounded stunned as he rasped while feeling the barrier with his paws, "H-hang on. W-What if Mom and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Twoleg money on you?"

"Doubt it. I didn't have an allowance for six years. My relatives say cats shouldn't use money," Nightpaw laughed flatly.

Redpaw pressed his ear to the cold barrier edgily. "Can't hear a thing in there. What'll we do? I don't know how long it'll take Mom and Dad to get back to us."

They looked around. Twolegs and kittypets were still watching them, generally due to Katara continuing to screech loudly. Nightpaw felt that they were attracting too much attention; he saw a camera filming them right when they had first crashed into the barrier.

"Let's just go and wait by the monster," he mewed.

"The monster..." Redpaw began mewing, his blue eyes widening with joy. "Nightpaw, that's it! We can fly the monster to the Forest! We're stuck and we have to get to school, right? Despite the rules, juvenile warrior cats can use magic in an emergency. I think it's read in Section of the Restriction of Thingy..."

Nightpaw pressed his paws and his ear against the barrier, hoping in vain that it could give away any moment. "But how will your parents get back?"

Redpaw lashed his tail enthusiastically. "But they won't need the monster! They know how to Apparate!" Seeing the confusion on Nightpaw's face, he added, "You know, just disappear and reappear at home! They only go with Floo powder and the monster because we're all juveniles and we're not allowed to Apparate yet until our sixth year."

Soon enough, Nightpaw's panic feeling turned into excitement. "Can you fly it?"

"I'll try," Redpaw told him. As he padded away from the barrier while dragging his stuff along, he mewed over his shoulder, "Now let's go. We'll follow the train if we hurry up."

And they marched off through the crowd of curious Twolegs, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Dodge Truck was parked. Redpaw unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his tail-wand.

They heaved their baggage back into the trunk, put Katara on the back seat, and got into the front.

As Redpaw started the ignition with another tap of his tail-wand, Nightpaw looked around to see if Twolegs or kittypets were around. To be safe than sorry, he meowed, "Redpaw, I just wanna say...kittypets and Twolegs aren't used to seeing flying monsters."

"Uh...yeah, sure," Redpaw replied.

He pressed a small silvery-gray button on the control board. The monster around the two felines vanished...and so did they. Nightpaw could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine, and feel his paws knead the seat quickly. But for all that he could see, he had become a couple of bright green eyes, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy Thunderpath full of resting monsters.

"Let's do this," Redpaw mewed from his right.

And the ground and the towering buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of Juneau lay, misty and impressive, right below them. Nightpaw felt that this was his first time flying in a flying vehicle; plus, he had never gone outside Alaska before.

Then there was a popping noise and the monster, Nightpaw, and Redpaw reappeared.

Redpaw jabbed at the Invisibility Booster. "Fox-dung! It's faulty!"

Both of them pummeled it. The car vanished, and then it flickered back again.

"Hang on!" Redpaw howled, and he slammed the small brick onto the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and vaporous.

"Now what?" Nightpaw mewed, blinking at the unyielding collection of clouds pressing in on them from all sides.

"We have to find the train to know what direction to go in," Redpaw explained.

"Go back down again...quickly..."

They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground.

"I see it!" Nightpaw yowled. "Wait a minute. No I don't. I thought I..."

A loud whistling noise made the two cats look at each other in fear and Katara turn around; the female Barn Owl/Snowy Owl mix's amber eyes widened with shock. The two cats heard the whistling grow louder, so they had no choice but to look behind them.

Right behind them was the Forest Express bearing down on the scarlet Dodge Truck like a grizzly bear towering over a deer that broke its leg. Both cats screeched in alarm; they hadn't expected the train to catch up so quickly and ready to run them over. Immediately, Redpaw steered the truck up until it was right over the roaring train.

But while they went up, the door to Nightpaw's side suddenly opened up and Nightpaw tumbled out. He was managing to grab on until he heard Redpaw screech, "NIGHTPAW! Hold on!"

He looked up to see that his friend had been using his back paw to steer the wheel while he reached his paw out, yowling, "Take my paw!" Nightpaw tried to hold on, but his muzzle wasn't long enough to grab on. "I said hold on!"

"I'm trying! But you're out of reach!" Nightpaw yowled back.

Redpaw leaped over hurriedly while letting go of the steering wheel, grabbed Nightpaw by the scruff of his neck, and hauled him back in. When this was done and over with, Nightpaw quickly shut the door while Redpaw quickly got back to the steering wheel, giving a sigh of relief. Now the Forest Express was snaking along below them like a crimson snake.

"It's due north," Redpaw sighed, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay. We'll have to check on it every half hour or so... Hold on..."

And the Dodge Truck shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a flame of sunshine. It was a different world up in the clouds of the heavens. The wheels of the red Dodge Truck skimmed the ocean of feathery cloud, the sky a brilliant never-ending sapphire under the dazzling golden sun.

"Now all we've got to worry about now are metal birds," Redpaw finally meowed.

The two tomcats looked around at each other and started to laugh out loud. For a long time, they couldn't stop the laughter.

It was as if they had been plunged into a brilliant dream. This, Nightpaw believed, was certainly a good way to travel: past swirls and turrets of snow-white clouds, in a monster full of hot bright sunlight, with a fat pack of caramels in the glove compartment, and the visualization of seeing the jealous faces of Berrytail and Cherrynose when they landed easily on the sweeping grass in front of the Forest castle.

They made customary checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each plunge below the clouds showing them a different view. Juneau was soon far behind them, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide green forests and purple mountains, a great city alive with monsters like colorful ants, villages with tiny toy nests that looked like bricks.

Several dull hours later, however, Nightpaw admitted that some of the fun was wearing off. The caramels had made them very parched and they had nothing to drink. He and Redpaw had pulled off their cat sweaters, but Nightpaw's collar was stuck to the fur on his neck and he kept dozing off a little. He had stopped noticing the incredible cloud shapes now and he was now thinking longingly of the train miles below, where you could buy ice-cold coffee from a cart pushed by a she-cat.

_Why couldn't we get onto platform seven and a half?_

"Can't be much further," Redpaw croaked, hours later still, as the sun started to go down into their floor of cloud, staining it a deep cherry color. "Wanna go for another check on the train?"

It was still right below them, winding its way past a snowcapped mountain. It was much darker beneath the covering of clouds. Redpaw put the small boulder on the accelerator and drove them up in the air again, but as he did so, the engine began to groan. Nightpaw and Redpaw exchanged worried glances.

"It's tired," the American Shorthair meowed. "It's never been this far before in its life."

And they both pretended not to be aware of the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became gradually darker; stars were blossoming in the dark sky as they left the mainland behind them. Nightpaw curled back into his cat sweater, trying to ignore the way the windshield wipers were now waving pathetically, as though in objection.

"It's not far," Redpaw whispered, more to the Dodge Truck than to Nightpaw. "It's not far now." And he patted the dashboard apprehensively.

Nightpaw looked over at him; the black-furred apprentice seemed to think that this monster was like a dog. When they flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, they had to narrow their eyes through the darkness for a familiar sight that they knew. But as far as they could see, there was nothing but the sea.

"Over there!" Nightpaw shouted, making Redpaw and Katara jump with alarm. "It's just up ahead!"

Silhouetted on the dark horizon was a small island. And there was something recognizable at the shoreline of the island; high on the cliff over the sea stood the many battlements and towers of the castle of the Forest. But unfortunately, the monster had begun to vibrate and it was quickly losing speed.

Redpaw mewled cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, "Hurry! We're nearly there! Come on!"

The engine let out a whistling groan. Narrow spurts of steam were issuing from under the hood. Nightpaw found himself gripping the edges of his seat very hard with his claws as they flew toward the island; the monster gave an unpleasant vibrate at this. Glancing out of his window, the Maine Coon mix saw the rough black rippling surface of the water, a skylength below. His friend's claws were digging into the rubber of the steering wheel.

Redpaw muttered something low to the monster and it managed to make it to the island. Finally, they had finally made it over the sea and the castle was right ahead; Redpaw put the stone down harder and they were on their way. But there was a loud thump, a splutter, and the engine died down completely.

Redpaw gulped in the silence. The noise of the red Dodge Truck dropped. They were falling now, gathering speed, heading straight for the rock-hard castle wall.

"Noooooooo!" Redpaw wailed, swinging the steering wheel around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the monster turned in a great arch, soaring high over the dark hothouses and the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.

Redpaw let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his tail-wand out of his small red bag. "STOP! STOP!" he yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windshield, but they were still plummeting downwards, the ground flying up right toward them...

"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Nightpaw bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but it was too late...

CRUNCH.

With an earsplitting bang of metal on ancient wood, they hit the thick rowan tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the mangled hood; Katara was now shrieking in terror, a walnut-size bump was throbbing on the top of Nightpaw's head where he had hit the windshield, and, to his right, Redpaw let out a low despairing groan.

"Redpaw, you okay?" Nightpaw asked his friend urgently.

Redpaw didn't answer at first, but then he finally croaked in a shaky voice, "M-my tail-wand. Look at my tail-wand..." It had been ripped apart, nearly into shreds; some soft pieces of the tail-wand were now dangling limply on his tail. Fortunately, it managed to hang on by a few stitches here and there.

Nightpaw rolled his eyes. "Just be thankful it wasn't your neck."

Suddenly, at that very moment, something hit his side of the monster with the force of a charging bull, sending him lurching to his left right into Redpaw. And that was just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What's happening?" Redpaw squealed.

Then the ginger tom let out a gasp, staring through the windshield, and Nightpaw looked around just in time to see a tree branch as thick as a python crash into it. The tree they had hit was now attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled twigs were pummeling every inch of the monster it could reach.

Redpaw yowled as another tree limb punched a large dent into the door; the windshield was now trembling under a shower of blows from talon-like twigs and a branch as thick as a bear was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in.

"Let's get outta here!" Redpaw screeched, throwing his full weight against his door. But however, he was soon knocked backward into Nightpaw's side by a vicious uppercut from another branch. He moaned in terror as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the monster started to vibrate; the engine had restarted.

"Reverse!" Nightpaw screeched yelled, and the Dodge truck shot backward. The rowan tree was still trying to hit them, but it was failing; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

When they were finally away from the tree, Redpaw panted, "That...was close. Good job, monster..." But the monster, however, had reached the end of its patience.

With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and Nightpaw felt his seat tip sideways: Next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Then some loud thuds told him that the monster was ejecting their luggage from the trunk. Katara's cage flew through the air and burst open; the female Barn Owl mix rose out of it with an irritated screech and flew off toward the castle without looking back. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the red Dodge truck rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Get back here!" Redpaw yowled after it, lashing his tail. "My dad's gonna kill me!"

But the monster disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.

"Can you believe it?" Redpaw whined glumly, bending down to pick up Scrapper. "You okay, Scrapper?" To Nightpaw, he mewed, "Out of all the trees that we could've hit, we hit one that can hit back!" He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient rowan tree, which was still flailing its branches in a threatening way.

Nightpaw sighed and told him wearily, "Let's just take our stuff up to the castle."

**...**

It wasn't the triumphant arrival that they expected, but they made it alive. Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks in their jaws and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors. It was a lot of weight for two cats to drag around since no one had come to take their stuff for them.

"I think the feast just started," Redpaw mewed, sniffing the air with his jaws open to take in the scent. He ended up dropping his luggage at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Nightpaw! Come and look at this! I-it's the Sorting Ceremony!"

Nightpaw sprinted over to his friend and, together, the two cats looked in at the Great Hall.

Numerous candles were hovering in midair over four long and very crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle like the sun. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars like drops of silver.

Through the forest of pointed black Forest hats, Nightpaw saw a long line of nervous-looking first year apprentices padding into the Hall. Leafkit was among them, easily visible because of her bright ginger coat. Meanwhile, Thistleheart McGonagall, a pale brown tabby she-cat with green eyes and black spots around her eyes, was placing the famous Forest Sorting Collar on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this ancient collar (blue, patched, frayed, and dirty) sorted new apprentices into the four Forest Clans (LionClan, BadgerClan, RavenClan, and ViperClan). Nightpaw remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and he was waiting and scared, for its decision as it muttered aloud in his ear. For a few awful seconds, he was afraid that it would put him in ViperClan, the Clan that gave birth to more Dark warriors than any other, but he ended up in LionClan, along with Redpaw, Fawnpaw, and the Weasley cats.

And last school year, Nightpaw and Redpaw had helped LionClan win the Clan Championship, beating ViperClan for the first time in seven years.

A small spotted brown tabby Egyptian Mau had been called forward to place the Collar around his neck. Nightpaw's green eyes travelled past him to where Silverstar Dumbledore, the leader of the Forest, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver tabby fur and blue eyes shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, he saw Gloryhound Lockhart, dressed in a cloak of aquamarine. And there at the end was Badgerstripe, huge and muscular, lapping deeply from his goblet.

"Wait," Nightpaw muttered to Redpaw. "There's an empty chair at the staff table. Where the hell did Brokenfang go?"

Brokenfang Snape was Nightpaw's most hated mentor in the Forest; Nightpaw was also the dark brown tabby tom's most hated apprentice in return. Unkind, sarcastic, and hated by everybody except the cats from his Clan (ViperClan), he taught the Potions class.

"Maybe he got sick!" Redpaw mewed hopefully.

Nightpaw meowed, "Maybe he left. He didn't get the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"

Redpaw went on cheerfully, "Or maybe he might have been fired! I mean, everyone hates him!"

"Or maybe," a cold voice right behind them growled, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the train."

Nightpaw spun around and he felt his joy evaporate. There, his black cloak rippling in a cold breeze, stood Brokenfang Snape himself. He was a thin Norwegian Forest Cat mix with dark amber eyes, a crooked tail, and oily long dark brown tabby fur. And at this moment, he was frowning in a way that told Nightpaw that he and Redpaw were in serious trouble. And beside him was Oscar Filch, the caretaker, who was leering at them with his ferret, Mr. Sniffer, at his side.

"Take a good look, lads. This could be your last night in this castle." With a sneer, he added, "Oh dear, we ARE in trouble, aren't we?"

Brokenfang glared at him before telling the two young toms, "Follow me. NOW."

Not daring even to look at each other in the eye, Nightpaw and Redpaw followed Brokenfang (while leaving Oscar behind) up the steps into the vast echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A tasty scent of food and mice was wafting from the Great Hall, but Brokenfang led them away from the warmth and the light, down a thin stone staircase that led into the dungeons.

"In!" he growled, pushing a door halfway down the cold hallway and pointing with a swivel of his ears.

The two young toms entered the cold office, shivering under their pelts. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which held some disgusting things that Nightpaw didn't want to know the name of at the moment. And this really wasn't the time to find out.

The fireplace was dark and empty as Brokenfang closed the door and turned to look at them. It was like staring into the eyes of a shark.

"So..." Brokenfang mewed softly as if he was being pulled out of his rage. "I suppose the school train isn't good enough for the famous Nightpaw Potter and his loyal lackey Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we?"

"No. It was the barrier at King's Cross..."

"Silence!" Brokenfang snapped coldly. "What did you do with the monster?"

Redpaw gulped; this wasn't the first time that the dark tabby tom gave Nightpaw the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Brokenfang unrolled today's issue of the Evening Warrior.

Then he leaped onto his desk and showed them the headline on the newspaper: FLYING DODGE TRUCK PUZZLES TWOLEGS AND KITTYPETS. He began to read aloud: _"'Two kittypets in Juneau, convinced that they saw an old truck flying over the Post Office... at noon in Anchorage, a gray tabby she-cat, while taking a stroll... a brown tom living at the Kenai Peninsula, whose Twolegs reported to the police..._'"

"You were seen by seven kittypets!" he went on, looking up at Redpaw and scowling angrily. "Do you two have _any_ idea how serious this is?"

Nightpaw's conscience began to bother him; he felt as if he was just smacked on the face by one of the rowan tree's bigger branches. If anyone found out that Weaseltail had put a spell on the red Dodge...he didn't even think of that.

"You have just risked the revelation of our world to the Twolegs and kittypets. Not to mention the large sum of damage you caused on a Rampaging Rowan that's been on these grounds since before you two were even born," the Potions master went on with a snarl on his face.

Redpaw blurted out, "Honestly, sir, I think that tree hurt us more than we did to it."

"_Silence!_" Brokenfang spat again, flecks of saliva spraying out when he spat it out. "Sadly, you two are not in my Clan and the decision to send you to exile does not rest with me. I'm going to go and fetch the cats who _do_ have that happy power. And if you were in MY Clan, you would be on the train ride back home...tonight! Wait here."

As the dark tabby leaped off of his desk and padded out of the room, Nightpaw and Redpaw stared at each other, wide-eyed and horrified. The young black cat didn't feel hungry anymore; he felt extremely sick now. He tried not to look at a large slimy something suspended in green liquid on a shelf behind the mentor's desk.

If Brokenfang went off to fetch Thistleheart, head of LionClan, they knew they weren't really going to get off really easily. The pale tabby Oriental Shorthair could be fairer than Brokenfang, but she was still a very strict warrior cat.

Ten minutes later and way too soon, Brokenfang returned, and (sure enough) it was Thistleheart who was following him into the room with a calm yet angry look on her face. Nightpaw had seen the pale tabby she-cat angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how narrow the pupils of her green eyes could go, or he had never seen her this furious before. She raised her tail-wand the moment that she entered; both young toms flinched at the sight of this, but she just pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.

"Sit," she commanded, and they both leaped into chairs by the fire.

"Explain," she mewed, her eyes glinting ominously.

So Redpaw launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through. "That's why we did it, Thistleheart. We couldn't get on the train."

"But why didn't you two use an owl to send us a letter? I believe _you_ have an owl?" Thistleheart added coldly to Nightpaw.

The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix gaped at her with humiliation. Now that she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done: sending Katara over to the Forest to get help.

"I...I didn't think..."

Thistleheart snorted. "THAT is obvious."

There was a knock on the office door and Brokenfang, looking haughtier than ever, opened it. There stood the leader of the Forest, Silverstar Dumbledore. Nightpaw's whole body went numb with shock. The silver tabby Persian cat was looking oddly grave and very disappointed. He stared down his flattened face at them, and the young black tom suddenly found himself wishing that he and Redpaw were still being thrashed by the Rampaging Rowan.

There was a long silence. Then Silverstar sighed wearily and croaked, "Please explain why you two have done this."

It would have been better if he had yelled at them; Nightpaw hated to hear the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Silverstar in the eyes, and spoke instead to his paws. He told his leader everything except that Redpaw's Twoleg owner owned the bewitched monster, making it sound as if he and Redpaw found a flying truck parked outside the station. He knew that Silverstar would see through this at once, but the silver tabby asked no questions about it. When Nightpaw finished the story, he merely continued to peer at them through somber blue eyes.

Then Redpaw sighed and muttered, "So should we get our stuff now?"

"What are you talking about, Mr. Weasley?" Thistleheart asked him.

"You're banishing us, right?"

Nightpaw looked quickly at Silverstar, who nodded to Thistleheart, and she did the same back to him.

"Not today, Mr. Weasley," Silverstar meowed. When the two cats sighed with relief, he went on gravelly, "But I must tell the both of you about the seriousness of what you did. I shall write to both of your families tonight. I must also warn the pair of you that if you ever do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to send you both into exile."

Now Brokenfang looked as if the holidays for Christmas and Easter were being cancelled. He cleared his throat and meowed quickly, "Silverstar, sir, these two toms have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Magic, and they caused grave damage to an old and priceless tree. Surely acts of this nature..."

"Be as it may, Brokenfang, it will be up to Thistleheart to decide their punishments," Silverstar told him very calmly. "They are in her Clan, and they are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Thistleheart and nodded to her. "I must return to the banquet, my old friend, for I have to give out a few notices for this year. Come with me, Brokenfang. There's a delicious-looking cream-filled doughnut I want to try..."

Brokenfang now looked very furious at the thought of Nightpaw and Redpaw not getting any punishments like being exiled. So he shot a look of pure venom at the young cats as he stalked out of his office, leaving them alone with Thistleheart. She looked calmer now, but she was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.

"You should go to the medicine cat den, Weasley. You're bleeding."

"It's not much," Redpaw answered her, hastily licking his paw and wiping the cut over his eye. "Listen, I wanted to watch my sister Leafkit being Sorted..."

Thistleheart told him, "The Sorting Ceremony is already over. And your sister Leafpaw is also a LionClan cat now."

Redpaw sighed with relief. "Thank StarClan."

"Oh, and speaking of LionClan..." the pale tabby went on sharply.

But Nightpaw interrupted her politely by saying: "Excuse me. When we took the monster to the Forest, the school year hadn't even started yet, so...so is LionClan going to lose any points for this?" he finished, watching her anxiously.

Thistleheart turned around and gave him a piercing look; that reminded him of the time when he had lost his Clan a lot of points and putting them in last place for a short period of time. But he was sure that she almost smiled; well, her eyes brightened a little, anyway.

"No. I will not take any points from LionClan this time," she mewed, and Nightpaw's heart eased up a little. "But the both of you will receive a detention."

Nightpaw and Redpaw looked around at each other at that and nodded. It was better than they expected. As for Silverstar writing to Daniel and the Dursley cats, that was nothing. Nightpaw knew perfectly well they would be disappointed that the Rampaging Rowan didn't crush him until he was crowfood. And as for Daniel...he didn't want to think about what his owner was thinking.

After that, Thistleheart raised her tail-wand again and pointed it at Brokenfang's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced cold apple juice appeared with a pop like a snake crawling out of a pipe.

"You two shall eat in here tonight and then go straight up to your dens for rest," she mewed while padding out of the room. "I must also go back to the banquet."

When the door had closed behind her, Redpaw let out a long low purr as he grabbed a sandwich. "I thought we were done for."

"Yeah," Nightpaw mewed, taking one too.

"Can you believe it, though?" Redpaw mumbled thickly through a mouthful of chicken and turkey. "Berrytail and Cherrynose probably flew that truck five or six times and no kittypet or Twoleg ever saw _them_. Why..." He swallowed and took another huge bite of the sandwich. "...couldn't we get through that barrier, anyways?"

Nightpaw had no clue, so he just shrugged. "But we'll need to watch our step from now on," he told him, lapping gratefully at the goblet of cold apple juice. "But I wish Thistleheart let us go up to the feast."

His friend replied wisely, "She didn't want us showing off. Doesn't want cats to think it's clever, arriving by a flying monster."

When they had eaten as much sandwiches as they could (for the plate kept refilling itself), they rose and left the office, padding along the familiar path up to the LionClan Tower. The castle was very quiet now; it seemed that the feast was already over. They padded calmly past muttering portraits and rattling statues of Sky Bison, and they climbed narrow flights of stone stairs. And finally, they reached the passage where the secret entrance to the LionClan Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat gray she-cat covered in a soft pink blanket.

"Password?"

Nightpaw just stared up at the picture. Of course they didn't know the new year's password yet, for they haven't met up with a LionClan prefect yet. But at last, help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying pawsteps behind them and turned to see Fawnpaw dashing toward them, her bushy light brown tabby fur bristling with worry.

"There you are! Where the hell were you two?" she was meowing to them when she got nearer. "I was hearing a rumor about you two being exiled for crashing a flying monster!"

"But we're still here now," Nightpaw told her, trying to lift the mood.

But she still didn't look convinced; instead, she looked a bit angrier than Thistleheart. "So you DID fly it here?"

Redpaw nodded impatiently. "Yeah, but please tell us the password now."

"It's Cassowary," she sighed, "but that's not the point..."

But her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the Fat Queen swung open and there was a sudden storm of applause and cheering. It looked as if all of the LionClan cats were still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive at last. Several pairs of jaws reached through the portrait hole to pull Nightpaw and Redpaw inside, leaving Fawnpaw to sigh and scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" Quicktongue Jordan cheered. "Inspiring! What an entrance! Flying a monster right into the Rampaging Rowan! Now many cats will be talking about that one for years!"

"Good job," meowed a fifth year gray-&-white tom Nightpaw hadn't spoken to yet; some other cat was patting him on his shoulder with their paw as if he had just won a powerful battle for survival.

Now Berrytail and Cherrynose pushed their way to the front of the crowd and they had a mix of indignation and cheerfulness in their gazes. Then they mewed together, "Why couldn't we come with you, huh?"

Redpaw was now staring at the floor, grinning embarrassedly, but Nightpaw could see one LionClan cat other than Fawnpaw who didn't look happy at all. Sandthorn was visible over the heads of some excited first year apprentices, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start scolding the two young tomcats. When he saw that, Nightpaw nudged Redpaw by the shoulder and nodded in the curly-haired tomcat's direction. Redpaw got the message right away.

"Gotta get upstairs. I'm a bit tired," he muttered, and the two of them pushed their way through the crowd of cats toward the door on the other side of the room. And that usually led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories, where their soft nest were waiting for them.

"Good-night," Nightpaw called back to Fawnpaw, who was wearing a scowling frown just like Sandthorn's.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their shoulders nudged kindly by the other cats, and they gained the peace of the staircase. They sprinted up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory den, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEAR APPRENTICES. They entered the familiar circular room, with its five familiar nests with blankets and moss and its tall narrow windows. Their trunks had already been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their nests.

Redpaw grinned guiltily at Nightpaw and whispered, "I know I shouldn't have enjoyed that or anything, but...I couldn't help it."

The dormitory door flew open and in came the three other second year LionClan toms: Sandpaw Finnigan, Cinderpaw Thomas, and Toadpaw Longbottom.

"Amazing!" Sandpaw smiled.

"Awesome!" Cinderpaw praised.

"Cool..." Toadpaw purred, awestruck.

Nightpaw couldn't help it. He grinned, too; if they were allowed to do that again, he would do it again.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Finally, FINALLY! This is the first story that I updated since I graduated. But since I'm still working on Bearclaw Alone for Avatar Cat: The Last AirClan Cat, Katara and Holly aren't going to come back yet. But they'll come back soon. By the way, Ginny, would you like to say the review thing before you go for now?**

**Ginny: Sure! (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this chapter will be the first one to say the disclaimer at the next chapter! (To AvatarCat11, who gives her a gift basket) I better go. See ya later, AvatarCat!**

**AvatarCat11: See ya later! Say hi to the Golden Trio for me! (Ginny agrees and leaves) So I'm going to try and update the best I can, but I gotta wait until my sister adds Microsoft Word to my new laptop.**

**See ya next time!**


	6. Gloryhound Lockhart

**AvatarCat11: Since I have Microsoft word is back up here, I'm still going to update stories like there's no tomorrow!**

**Hermione: (Comes into the room) We heard about your graduation, AvatarCat, and that's really great Congratulations!**

**Avatarcat11: (Shakes her hand) Thanks, Hermy! (Hermione doesn't glare at him this time) What? No glaring?**

**Hermione: I'm used to the nickname now.**

**AvatarCat11: (Surprised) Oh. Well then, should we go on with the disclaimer and the updating date?**

**Hermione: Sure!**

**Disclaimer: AvatarCat11 has said this many times, that he will never own Harry Potter or Warrior Cats!**

**Updating Date: June 22, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Gloryhound Lockhart_

But the next morning, unfortunately, Nightpaw couldn't smile at all, even if he wanted to. Things started to go downward from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long Clan tables were laden with loads of food; examples were bowls of cereal with blueberries, plates of salmon, mountains of sausage patties and biscuits, and dishes of eggs and bacon. And they all stood there beneath the charmed ceiling (today, a dull overcast gray).

Nightpaw and Redpaw sat down at the LionClan table next to Fawnpaw, who was reading her Voyages with Vultures that was propped open against a pitcher of apple juice. There was a small rigidity in the way she said "Hey," which told the black cat that she still didn't like the way they had arrived. Toadpaw Longbottom, in contrast, greeted them happily. He was a brown tabby Exotic Shorthair and unlucky cat with the worst memory of anyone that Nightpaw had ever met.

"Morning, all!" he mewed when he padded towards them. "The mail's coming at any minute! I think Grandma sent me stuff that I forgot to bring here."

Nightpaw just nodded and started chewing on a sausage when he looked up to see that Toadpaw was right. There was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls flew right in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the gossiping crowd of felines.

"Hey, Redpaw!" Cinderpaw called over to the other American Shorthair. "Is that your owl?"

A large and lumpy package bounced off of Toadpaw's head and, a second later, something small and dotted brown fell into Fawnpaw's apple juice pitcher. The impact sprayed the surrounding cats with apple juice and feathers.

"Dodo!" Redpaw squealed, pulling the unkempt Burrowing Owl out by the talons with his jaws. Dodo slumped, knocked out, onto the table, his legs in the air and a soggy red envelope in his beak.

Redpaw rolled his eyes, hissing, "That bird's a menace!" But when he saw the red envelope, he gasped loudly, "Oh no..."

"It's okay. He's still alive," Fawnpaw meowed, prodding Dodo moderately with one of her paws.

"Not that. _That_."

The ginger American Shorthair was pointing at the red envelope with his tail. It looked quite like an ordinary envelope to Nightpaw, but Redpaw and Toadpaw were both looking at it as if they expected it to explode. Either that, or it looked like it would leap up and bite them on the nose one at a time.

"What's wrong?" Nightpaw asked.

Sandpaw looked over towards Redpaw, then he called to the other LionClan cats, "Look here, everyone! Weasley's got himself a Yowler!"

"You better open it now, Redpaw," Toadpaw whispered in a fearful undertone. "It'll be bad if you don't open it now. My grandma sent me one once last year, and I ignored it and...it was awful." He gulped at the thought of that memory.

Nightpaw looked from their frightened faces to the red envelope and he was still confused. "But what's a Yowler?" he asked.

But Redpaw's complete attention was fixed on the letter only, which had begun to smolder at the corners.

"Open it," Toadpaw urged. "Get it over with."

Redpaw began trembling like crazy as he reached forward with his paw, eased the envelope from Dodo's beak, and split it open; at that, Toadpaw laid down and clamped his ears shut with his forepaws. A second later, Nightpaw knew why. He thought for a minute that it DID explode; a roar of rage sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"_REDPAW WEASLEY!"_

The letter was now taking the shape of a pair of Twoleg lips as it hovered over the table and started screeching loudly at Redpaw.

"_HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT MONSTER! I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF THEY SENT YOU INTO EXILE! YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY PAWS ON YOU! I SUPPOSE THAT YOU DIDN'T STOP TO THINK ABOUT WHAT WE WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW THAT THE MONSTER WAS GONE!"_

Hollywhisker Weasley's screech, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed piercingly off the stone walls. Cats throughout the hall were now twisting around to see who had received the Yowler, and Redpaw sank so low in his chair that only his crimson-furred ears could be seen.

"_WE RECEIVED A LETTER FROM SILVERSTAR LAST NIGHT, AND I THOUGHT THAT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE FROM SHAME! WE DID NOT RAISE YOU UP TO BE LIKE THIS! YOU AND NIGHTPAW COULD'VE BEEN KILLED!"_

Nightpaw had been thinking about when his name would show up in the Yowler. He tried his very best to act as if he couldn't hear it, even though the loud noise was blasting through his eardrums.

"_I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN AUTOPSY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER CLAW OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING STRAIGHT BACK HOME!"_

Then the Yowler turned to Leafpaw and told her very sweetly, "Oh, and Leafpaw, dear, well done on becoming a LionClan cat. Your father and I are so proud of you!"

And as Leafpaw blushed, the Yowler stuck itself into Redpaw's face again, blew a big raspberry at him, and tore itself up into shreds. As a clear silence fell, Nightpaw and Redpaw sat stunned, as if a tsunami had just passed over them and blew them away. A few cats laughed a little at that and, regularly, a hubbub of talk broke out again.

Fawnpaw closed her Voyages with Vultures book and looked down at the top of Redpaw's head. "I'm not sure what you expected, Redpaw, but you..."

"_Please_ don't tell me I deserved it," Redpaw hissed.

As for Nightpaw, he pushed his unfinished sausage patty away, no longer hungry. His insides were burning with guilt and pure shame. Weaseltail was now facing an autopsy at work and nearly facing being fired. After all he and Hollywhisker had done for him over greenleaf... He felt as if he had backstabbed them by doing that; he wasn't proud of what he did anymore.

But he had no time to be troubled about this, for Thistleheart was moving along the LionClan table, handing out the semester schedules. Nightpaw took his schedule and he saw that they had double Herbology with the BadgerClan cats first.

So the Golden Trio left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and padded onwards to the hothouses, where the magical plants were kept. At least thankfully, the Yowler had done one good thing: Fawnpaw seemed to think that the Yowler was punishment enough and she was being perfectly friendly again.

**...**

As they padded to the hothouses, they saw the rest of the class standing just outside, waiting for Sproutflower Sprout. The Golden Trio just joined them when she came stalking into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gloryhound Lockhart. Sproutflower's jaws were full of cobwebs, and with another pang of shame, Nightpaw spotted the Rampaging Rowan in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.

Sproutflower was a stout gray tabby European Shorthair who wore a fixed hat over her unruly head fur; there was usually a large amount of earth on her pelt and claws would have made Aunt Tulip faint. Gloryhound Lockhart, though, was tidy in a sweeping cape of turquoise, his golden creamy wiry fur shining under an impeccably positioned turquoise hat with a gold frill.

"'Morning, gang!" he called, beaming around at the amassed cats. "Just showing Sproutflower the correct way to doctor a Rampaging Rowan! But I don't want you to run away with the idea that I'm better than she is at Herbology! I just happen to have met numerous species of these exotic plants on my travels."

"Good morning, everyone! We're doing hothouse three today!" Sproutflower meowed. The pale tabby was looking clearly resentful, not at all her normal jolly self.

There was a hum of interest. They only worked in hothouse one before, for hothouse three had far more exciting and perilous plants. The Herbology mentor took a large key from her bag and unlocked the door. Nightpaw could smell damp soil and manure blending with the heavy balm of some massive cow-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was going to follow his friends inside when Gloryhound padded forward and herded him away.

"Nightpaw! Been wanting a word. Do you mind if he's a couple minutes late, Sproutflower?"

Judging by the European Shorthair's frown, she did mind. But Gloryhound just meowed, "That's the spirit," and closed the hothouse door quite rudely in her face.

"Nightpaw," the Cornish Rex began meowing, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "Nightpaw, Nightpaw, Nightpaw."

Completely confused, Nightpaw stayed silent.

"When I heard about...well, of course, it was my fault. Could've beaten myself up!"

Nightpaw didn't know what he was talking about. He was about to say just that when the curly creamy tom went on, "I haven't been more shocked. Flying a monster to the Forest! Well, of course, I knew right away why you did it. Stood out a mile. Nightpaw, Nightpaw, _Nightpaw_."

It was remarkable of how he could show every one of his shining teeth even when he didn't talk.

Gloryhound went on, "Gave you a taste for fame, didn't I? Gave you the bug, right? You got onto the front page of the newspaper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again!"

In shock, the black cat wailed, "Oh, no! You see..."

"Nightpaw, Nightpaw, Nightpaw," Gloryhound interrupted. "_I understand_. Usual to want a bit more once you've had that first taste...and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head. But look, you can't start flying monsters to try and get yourself seen! Calm down, okay? There's plenty of time for all that when you get older. Oh, I know what you're thinking! 'It's okay for him! He's a globally famous warrior!'

"But when I was twelve, I was as much of a nobody as you are! In fact, I would say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few cats heard of you, right? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He glanced quickly at the white lightning-shaped scar on Nightpaw's forehead. "I know, I know. It's not as good as winning Warrior Weekly's Most Attractive Smile Award five times in a row, as I have, but it's a start, Nightpaw. It's a start."

_Right... _Then... _A nobody? I bet HE'S the nobody now._

He gave Nightpaw an enthusiastic wink and strode off. Nightpaw stood there shocked for a few seconds. Then, remembering that he was supposed to be in the hothouse, he opened the door and quickly slid inside. Now he wasn't sure if he liked that cat that much anymore.

Sproutflower was standing behind a framework counter in the center of the hothouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored earmuffs were lying on the counters. When Nightpaw took his place between his friends, she meowed, "Now we're going to be repotting these here Mandrakes today. Who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To nobody's surprise, Fawnpaw's front leg was first into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," she meowed, sounding as usual as if she swallowed the textbook. "It is used to return cats that have been transformed or cursed to their traditional state. It's also very dangerous, however, because the Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Excellent. Twenty points to LionClan," Sproutflower praised. "The Mandrake does indeed form an essential part of most antidotes. And as Miss Granger pointed out, it is also dangerous. Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep pots as she spoke, and everyone shambled forward to get a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish lime in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite commonplace to Nightpaw, who had no idea what Fawnpaw meant by the "cry" of the Mandrake.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs." There was a clamber as everyone tried to get a pair that wasn't pink and fuzzy.

Then Sproutflower announced, "When I tell you to put them on, make sure that your ears are totally covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you a signal with my tail. Earmuffs on!"

So Nightpaw snapped the earmuffs over his ears and they shut out sound completely. Then the pale gray tabby put the pink fluffy pair over her own ears, ruffled her fur so that it was smooth, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly in her jaws, and pulled hard. Nightpaw then let out a gasp of astonishment that no one could hear.

Instead of roots, a small and muddy and very revolting baby Twoleg kit popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of its head. It had pale green blotchy skin, and it was plainly bawling at the top of his lungs.

Sproutflower daringly took a large plant pot from under the table with her back paws and put the Mandrake into it, burying him in damp soil until only the tufted leaves were visible. Then the Herbology mentor rubbed her jaws against a clean wet cloth, gave them all a flick with her tail, and removed her own earmuffs. But Toadpaw had fainted.

Sproutflower meowed sensitively, "Oh. Longbottom must have been neglecting his earmuffs."

Sandpaw Finnigan looked down at Toadpaw and mewed, "No, ma'am. He just fainted."

"Oh. Well, we'll wake him up later. Anyways, as our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries will not kill you yet," she mewed calmly as if she did nothing more exciting than watering a tree. "But they _will_ knock you out for a few hours, and I'm sure none of you would want to miss your first day back. So make sure your earmuffs are firmly in place while you work on this. I will get your attention when it's time to pack up.

"Four to a tray...there is a large supply of pots here...compost in the sacks over there. And be very careful of the Venomous Tentacula. It's teething." She gave a sharp paw slap to a spiky dark red plant as she spoke. That made it draw in the long antennae that were inching stealthily over her shoulder.

So Nightpaw, Redpaw, and Fawnpaw were joined at their tray by a peach-colored Australian Mist tom that Nightpaw knew by sight but had never spoken to.

"Name's Finchpaw Finch-Fletchley," he meowed brightly, nodding to Nightpaw. "But I know who you are, of course. The famous Nightpaw! And you're Fawnpaw Granger, always top in everything." Fawnpaw purred as she nodded to him. "And Redpaw Weasley. Wasn't that your flying monster, by the way?"

Redpaw just gave him a frown. The Yowler was obviously still fresh in his mind.

"That Gloryhound really is something, isn't he?" Finchpaw meowed happily as they filled their plant pots with cow manure compost. "Very brave guy. Have you read his books already? I would've _died_ of fear if I was cornered in a crate by a wolf, but he kept his cool and...boom! Just fantastic.

"My name was down for England, you know. But I can't tell you how happy I am to come here instead. Of course, Mother was a little disappointed, but since I let her read those books, I think she sees how useful it'll be to have a fully trained warrior cat in the family!"

They didn't have much chance to talk after that. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to focus on the Mandrakes. Sproutflower had made it look awfully easy, but it wasn't actually easy at all. The Mandrakes didn't like to come out of the earth, but they didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth at the cats; Nightpaw spent ten minutes trying to squeeze a mainly fat one into a pot while Redpaw teased his a little before being bitten.

By the end of the class, Nightpaw (like everyone else) was feeling hot, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone trudged back to the castle for a quick wash and then the LionClan cats hurried off to Transfiguration.

**...**

Thistleheart's classes were always hard work, but today's class was especially hard. Everything that Nightpaw learned last year seemed to have trickled out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a cockroach into a marble, but all he did was give his roach a lot of workout as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his tail-wand and paws.

Redpaw was having some worse problems. He had patched up his tail-wand with some borrowed duct tape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at any odd moment, and every time the ginger tom tried to transform his roach, it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled like rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, he had unintentionally squashed his roach with his hind paw and it left a gross mess. Thistleheart wasn't happy.

Nightpaw was very happy to hear the lunch bell, for his brain felt like moss wrung out for water. Everyone padded out of the classroom except him and Redpaw, who was licking his tail-wand furiously on the desk.

"Stupid useless thing!"

"Just write to your mom for another one," Nightpaw suggested as the tail-wand let off a torrent of bangs like an explosive.

Redpaw growled cynically, "Oh, sure! Great idea there! And then I'll get another Yowler back! 'It's your fault your tail-wand got clawed!'" Then he gave a pitiful sigh and moaned, "Say it. I'm doomed."

Not knowing what to say, Nightpaw just replied, "You're doomed."

They went downstairs to lunch, but Redpaw's foul mood worsened by Fawnpaw proudly showing them the bagful of perfect marbles that she had produced in Transfiguration. Nightpaw couldn't help but grimace at that; now wasn't the right time for that.

So he meowed to her while hastily changing the subject, "What do we have for this afternoon?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Fawnpaw meowed at once.

But Redpaw seized her schedule and stared at it with incredulity. Then he growled, "Fawnpaw, why the _hell_ have you bordered all of his lessons in little hearts?"

The light brown tabby she-cat snatched the schedule back, red-faced.

**...**

The Golden Trio finished their lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard to relax for a bit. Fawnpaw sat down on a stone step and already had her nose buried in Voyages with Vultures again. While the two toms prowled around her and talked about AirBall for a few minutes, the black cat suddenly became aware that he was being closely watched.

Looking around his shoulder, he was suddenly blinded by a flashing light. When he recovered, he saw the small brown tabby Egyptian Mau he had seen trying on the Sorting Collar last night staring at Nightpaw as if mesmerized. He had what looked like a usual Twoleg camera around his neck, and the moment the Maine Coon mix looked at him, he blushed.

"You all right, Nightpaw? I'm Mousepaw Creevey," he mewled excitedly, taking a very shy step forward. "I'm a LionClan cat too. Do you think it'll be all right if...I can take another picture of you?" he added, raising the camera hopefully.

"Huh?"

Mousepaw took another small happy step to him. "So I can prove that I met you. I know all about you. Everyone told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you as a kit and how he disappeared and everything and how you got a lightning scar on your forehead. And a cat in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures will _move_."

The brown tabby apprentice drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's so really incredible here, right? I never knew all of this I could do in the Wild was magic until I got the letter from the Forest. My dad's a farmer's cat and he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking lots of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be great if I had one of you." He looked earnestly at Nightpaw. "Maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you. And then, could you please sign it?"

"Signed pictures? You're giving out signed pictures, Potter?"

Loud and contemptuous, Icepaw Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Mousepaw, flanked, as he always was at the Forest, by his large and thuggish dark brown tabby cronies, Lobsterpaw Crabbe and Monkeypaw Goyle.

"Everyone gather 'round!" the black-&-silver tabby British Shorthair called to the crowd of cats. "Nightpaw Potter's giving out signed pictures!"

Unsheathing his claws in anger, Nightpaw spat at him, "I am _not_! Shut up!"

Mousepaw rapidly leaped in between the two older cats, squeaking at Icepaw, "You're just jealous!"

"Jealous?" Icepaw repeated, pushing him out of the way. He sat down, licked his paw clean, and spat quickly before speaking some more. "Of what? I don't want a filthy scar right across my forehead, thank you very much. In fact, it doesn't make anyone special at all!"

At that, Lobsterpaw and Monkeypaw snickered stupidly and evilly at that. Plus, everyone was already hearing this, because Icepaw's voice was so loud that it could wake up a deaf rabbit.

"Make like a bird and eat slugs!" Redpaw snarled, getting into the argument. Those words made Icepaw's henchmen stop laughing and unsheathe their claws.

Icepaw just sneered, "I'd be careful, Weasley. Or your mommy will take you back home. 'If you put another claw out of line...'" he mimicked harshly. At that, a group of ViperClan cats were laughing out loud at that; Nightpaw had learned from Badgerstripe that ViperClan cats were a pack of fox-hearts.

"Weasley would like a signed picture, Potter," the British Shorthair went on, his sneer becoming nastier. "It'll be more worth than his dump of a home, that's for sure!"

Redpaw hissed at that insult and began to stalk towards him, his fur bristling and his teeth bared; Nightpaw even felt that he should join in as well. But before they could settle things in a fight with Icepaw, Fawnpaw quickly snapped her book closed and let out a warning hiss. And there was the cat that Nightpaw didn't want to see: Gloryhound.

"What's all this? What's all this?" he was meowing, his turquoise cape billowing out from behind him as he treaded right towards them. "Who's giving out signed pictures?"

Nightpaw was just going to speak, but he was cut short as Gloryhound herded him away from his friends and thundered enthusiastically, "Shouldn't have asked, should I? We meet again, young Nightpaw!"

Forced to walk by his side and burning with humiliation, Nightpaw turned around to glare at Icepaw. But he just saw him slide smirking back into the crowd; some of the other cats didn't even try to stop him. He tried to slink away from him, but the Cornish Rex just pulled him back like he had done at Dragon Alley.

"Come, Mr. Creevey," Gloryhound purred, beaming at Mousepaw. "We'll do two portraits, can't do better than that, and we'll sign it for you."

The small brown tabby tom quickly took the camera strap from his neck and he took the picture while Nightpaw did his best to fake a smile. Thankfully, the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

"Off you go. Move along there," Gloryhound called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Nightpaw. Now he wished that he knew a good Vanishing Spell, still forced to pad beside him. He wished that he could use it on himself to get away, or he could use it on this annoying cat.

As they entered the castle through a side door, Gloryhound meowed paternally, "A word to the wise, Nightpaw. I covered up for you back there with young Creevey; if he was taking a picture of me, well...your classmates won't think that you're setting yourself up so much."

Deaf to the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix's stammers, Gloryhound herded him down a corridor lined with staring cats and up a flight of stairs.

"Let me just tell you this: giving out signed photos at this stage of your career…isn't sensible. Looks a bit pompous, Nightpaw, to be honest. There may be a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a pile nearby wherever you go, but..." he gave a little chuckle "...I don't think you're there yet."

**...**

They had reached the classroom and he let Nightpaw go at last. The black cat let his fur smooth out and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Gloryhound's books in front of him. That way, he wouldn't look at the real thing. The rest of the class came clattering in, and Redpaw and Fawnpaw sat down on either side of him.

"You know, you could've had dirt on your face," Redpaw meowed to him. "Just pray to StarClan that Mousepaw doesn't meet Leafpaw, or they'll start a Nightpaw Potter fan club or something."

"Just shut the fuck up," Nightpaw growled. The last thing he needed was for Gloryhound to hear the phrase "Nightpaw Potter fan club." About what the creamy tom told him earlier, that wasn't true at all. He didn't want to be famous just because a bear killed his parents.

When the whole class was seated, Gloryhound cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. Then he reached forward, picked up Toadpaw's copy of Travels with Tigers, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

"I present to you your new Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor: me," he announced, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gloryhound Lockhart, Order of Thunder, Third Class, Voluntary Member of the Dark Side Defense League, and five-time winner of Warrior Weekly's Most Attractive Smile Award, but I won't talk about that right now. I didn't get rid of the Botswana Baboon by smiling at her!"

He waited for them to laugh, but a few cats smiled half-heartedly.

"I see that you all bought a complete set of my books! Well done! Let's start today with a little pop quiz. Nothing to worry about; it's just to check how well you've read them, how much info that you've taken in."

When he had handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and announced, "All right, class! You have thirty minutes. Starting...now!"

Nightpaw looked down at his paper and read the following questions:

1. What is Gloryhound Lockhart's favorite color?

2. What is Gloryhound Lockhart's secret desire?

3. What, in your view, is Gloryhound Lockhart's greatest feat so far?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to the final question:

54. When is Gloryhound Lockhart's birthday, and what would his perfect gift be?

Half an hour later, the unusually smooth-furred Cornish Rex collected all of the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't think a lot of you remember my favorite color being beige. And I think a few of you need to read my book called Wanderings With Wolves a bit more; I clearly stated in there that my idea for a birthday gift is peace and harmony among cats and other wild animals. But I won't say no to a big ol' bottle of Stonetail Ogden's Fire Whiskey!"

Then the cream-colored tomcat gave them another unscrupulous wink. Redpaw was now staring at him with an expression of mistrust on his face; Sandpaw Finnigan and Cinderpaw Thomas, who were sitting in front of him, were shaking with silent laughter. Fawnpaw, on the other paw, was listening to Gloryhound with absorbed attention and gave a meow of amazement when he said her name.

"But of course, Miss Fawnpaw Granger knew my secret goal is to fight evil and market my own variety of fur-care potions! Good girl! In fact..." he flipped her paper over "...she get the full marks! And where is she at right now?"

Fawnpaw raised a shaky paw.

"Superb!" Gloryhound purred to her. "Quite superb! Ten points to LionClan! And so, let's get back to business."

He padded to behind his desk and came back pulling a red wagon with a large cage covered in a white cloth. "Now be warned! It is my job as your mentor in this class to support you against the filthiest creatures known to catkind! You may find yourselves facing your very worst fears in this room. Let no harm befall you while I am here. Just remain calm."

Despite not liking this cat, Nightpaw gave in and padded around his pile of books to get a better look at the cage. Gloryhound placed a fore paw on the cover. Cinderpaw and Sandpaw stopped laughing while Toadpaw was cowering in his front row seat.

In a low voice while the class held its breath, Gloryhound whispered, "Now I must ask you not to scream, for it might provoke them. Yes," he meowed vividly. "Newly caught flying satyrs."

"Flying satyrs?" Sandpaw couldn't control himself, for he let out a splutter of laughter. But Gloryhound was so stupid that he couldn't mistake that for a screech of fright. Then Sandpaw choked, "They're not that dangerous!"

"Miniature Greek flying satyrs!" Gloryhound meowed, waggling his tail annoyingly at the sand-colored Manx cat. "They can be devilish sharp little blighters!"

The flying satyrs looked like small goat-like Twolegs; they were dark brown and about eight inches high, with clever faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of parrots arguing. The moment the cover was removed, they started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars with their horns and hooves and making the ugliest faces at the cats nearest them.

"All righty, then," Gloryhound announced loudly. "Let's see what you think of them!" And as quick as stealing the last can of Who Hash, he opened the cage.

The following scene was nothing but pure mayhem and chaos. The flying satyrs shot in every direction like dragonflies; two of them seized Toadpaw by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with shards of broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more successfully than a rampaging rhino.

They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the cats with them, shredded books and papers to bits, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the trash-can, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window, and even tore down the humpback whale skeleton from the ceiling. Within minutes, half the class was hiding under desks and Toadpaw was now swinging fearfully from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come now! Round them up, round them up! They're only satyrs!" Gloryhound shouted. But when no one dared to do that, he ruffled his fur up, flicked his tail-wand around, and bellowed, _"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"_

It had undeniably no effect; one of the satyrs even wrenched the tail-wand away and threw it out of the window, too. Finally, the bell rang and there was a quick rush toward to get out of there. In the virtual calm that followed, Gloryhound straightened up, caught sight of the Golden Trio, who were almost at the door, and meowed, "I'll have to leave you three to just get them back into their cage." He sprinted past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

So the three cats leaped back into the classroom and ducked underneath the desks. Flying satyrs here and there tried poking at them with sticks, but they easily swatted them out of their way. Nightpaw even tried to grab one satyr that was pulling his whiskers and flung it across the room. That satyr, however, came right back for him, this time pulling his ears.

Redpaw, who was swatting his paws at the flying satyrs, growled, "What'll we do?"

Fawnpaw gave a sigh, pointed her tail-wand at the flying satyrs in the chaos, and yowled a spell that seemed to freeze the satyrs altogether. Some had frozen funny looks on their faces while others had been busy trying to make mischief

"Can you believe that dumbass?" Redpaw hissed as one of the remaining satyrs kicked him hard and painfully on the nose.

"Lay off him! He just wants to give us some practical experience," Fawnpaw told the ginger tom, immobilizing two moving satyrs at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.

"Practical?" Nightpaw repeated in disbelief as he tried to grab a satyr dancing out of reach with its tongue sticking out. "Fawnpaw, that cat had _no_ idea what he was doing!"

Fawnpaw just snorted, "Bull. You've read his books already! Look at all the incredible stuff that he's done!"

"So he _says_ he's done," Redpaw growled quietly while Toadpaw mewed above them, "Why is it always me?"

_To be continued…_

**...**

**AvatarCat11: There we go! At least we finished up the chapter when that stupid fake we call Lockhart comes in!**

**Hermione: (Looking away) I can't believe I fell for that prat! I didn't know he was a fake until Harry and Ron told me.**

**AvatarCat11: Hey, it's all water under the bridge now, so it's okay. So would you like to say the disclaimer for today?**

**Hermione: (Smiles at him) Sure! (Turns to the readers) If anyone reviews this FanFic, then they'll receive virtual gummy sidewinders and gummy geckos. AvatarCat11 had some of those at Lake Tobias Wildlife Park in Pennsylvania.**

**AvatarCat11: It's true! And they were tasty!**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: See ya next time!**


	7. Kittybloods and Rasping

**AvatarCat11: Soon, I'm going to create a PokéPark series that's like SpongeBob, except that it'll be a mix of PokéPark Wii and Avatar Mystery Dungeon. That aside, it's time to make a new chapter of Nightfang Potter and the Cavern of Secrets!**

**Ron: I don't like this chapter. First, Hermione gets called a Mudblood, and then my wand backfires and I burp up slugs!**

**AvatarCat11: Don't forget that you gave us a clue of Voldemort's true name.**

**Ron: (Grins) Really? Bloody hell. I didn't really know that. Can I say the disclaimer?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure.**

**Ron: And here's the disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: AvatarCat11 does NOT own Harry Potter or Warrior Cats…and he doesn't even want to!**

**Updating Date: July 13, 2011**

**AvatarCat11: Plus, I feel really bad about not letting other readers of this FanFic help out with this. So I'll let another reader say the review thing if they'd like.**

**AvatarCat11 and Ron: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Kittybloods and Rasping_

Nightpaw had to spend a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Gloryhound Lockhart padding down a passageway. Mousepaw Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Nightpaw's schedule by heart, was a harder cat to avoid. Nothing seemed to thrill him more than greeting Nightpaw and getting a response, even though the black cat was irritated when he said this.

Meanwhile, Katara was still angry at Nightpaw about the terrible monster journey and Redpaw's own tail-wand was still shredded, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting off of his tail in Charms and hitting the aging bicolored Munchkin cat, Shortlegs Flitwick, right between the eyes, creating a large agonizing green ulcer where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Nightpaw was very glad to reach the weekend.

**...**

He and the other cats of the Golden Trio were planning to visit Badgerstripe on Saturday morning. Nightpaw, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Treebranch Wood, Captain of the LionClan AirBall team.

"Wha...? What's going on?" the black cat yawned.

"AirBall practice. Let's go!"

Nightpaw faintly squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky, turning the sea near the island to gold. Now that he was awake, he didn't understand how he could have slept through the racket the birds were making. And he had missed the noise of the waves lapping against the rocks like tongues.

He croaked, "It's just dawn, Treebranch."

"That's right. It's part of our new training routine. Come on, grab your wings, and let's go on," the light brown tabby meowed vigorously. He was a tall and husky sixth year Norwegian Forest Cat and, at the moment, his eyes were shiny with a wild passion. "None of the other teams have started training yet. We're going to be first off the mark this year."

Yawning loudly and shivering a bit, Nightpaw stretched, climbed out of bed, and tried to find his AirBall cape.

"Good," Treebranch purred. "See you on the field in fifteen minutes."

When he found his scarlet team cape and pulled on his pelt for warmth, Nightpaw jotted a note to Redpaw explaining where he went and padded down the coiled staircase to the camp room, his Icarus Three Thousand wings flapping hard on his back. The wings sent a small shower of gold to the floor as they stretched themselves widely, making Nightpaw look like a peacock.

He had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clang behind him and Mousepaw Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck. He seemed to be carrying something in his jaws.

"I heard someone say your name on the stairs, Nightpaw! Look what I got here! See it? I got it developed! I wanted to show you this!"

Nightpaw looked bemusedly at the photo the little brown tabby was waving under his nose. He was now able to see what the picture was about.

A moving black-and-white Gloryhound was tugging hard on a tail that Nightpaw recognized as his own. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Nightpaw watched, the Cornish Rex gave up and slumped, breathless, against the white edge of the picture. The black cat was a bit satisfied, but he still didn't want to be around this cat.

Mousepaw was mewing, "Can you sign it?"

"No," Nightpaw meowed flatly. Checking to see if the room was deserted, he added, "I'm sorry, Mousepaw, but I gotta go. I got AirBall practice to do."

"Really?" Mousepaw squealed happily as Nightpaw leaped through the portrait hole. "Wait up! I haven't seen an AirBall practice session before!"

Since the Egyptian Mau was still following him, Nightpaw added quickly, "It's boring, actually."

But Mousepaw wasn't really affected by that because his eyes were shining as he mewed, "You were the youngest Seeker to be in AirBall, weren't you? Weren't you? You must be awesome! I haven't ever flown on wings. Is it easy? Are those your wings? Are those the best ones that there are?"

Nightpaw couldn't find a way to get rid of this cat. It was very much like having a chatty shadow right beside you.

"I don't understand much about AirBall," Mousepaw went on eagerly. "Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock cats off of their wings?"

Nightpaw sighed heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of AirBall. "Yes. They're called Budgers. There are two Thrashers on each team who carry clubs in their jaws to beat the Budgers away from their side. Berrytail and Cherrynose Weasley are the LionClan Thrashers."

Mousepaw asked, tripping down a few steps because he was gazing open-mouthed at Nightpaw, "What are the other balls for?"

"Well, the Qualify...the big red one...is the one that scores goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Qualify to each other and try and get it through the goal posts at the end of the pitch. They're three long poles the length of a whale with hoops on the end."

"And the fourth ball..."

"...is the Golden Pinch," Nightpaw meowed. "It's very small, very fast, and tough to catch. But that's what the Seeker has to do because a game of AirBall won't end until the Pinch is caught. And whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch will earn his team an additional one hundred and fifty points."

Mousepaw asked him with awe, "And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?"

Nightpaw nodded as they left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass. "And there's the Keeper, too. He guards the goal posts. That's about it, really."

But Mousepaw didn't stop questioning Nightpaw all the way down the italic lawns to the AirBall field, and the young black cat only shook him off when he reached the changing rooms. Then the young brown tabby called after him in a high-pitched voice that he was going to get a good seat and hurried off to the stands.

**...**

The rest of the LionClan AirBall team was already in the changing room, but they were all tired. Treebranch was the only cat who looked strictly awake. Berrytail and Cherrynose Weasley were sitting, puffy-eyed and messy-furred, next to fourth year Snowfall Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Bluesplash Bell and Shadefeather Johnson, were yawning beside them.

"There you are, Nightpaw. What took you so long?" Treebranch meowed smartly. "Anyways, I wanted to talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the entire season of greenleaf planning a whole new training session, which I think will make a big difference..."

The light brown tabby was holding up a large illustration of an AirBall field, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different colored inks. He lashed his tail-wand around, tapped the board, and the arrows began to twist over the illustration like earthworms. While the LionClan Captain launched into a speech about his new tactics, Berrytail's head drooped right onto Snowfall's shoulder and began to snore.

The first board took almost twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. Nightpaw sank into a deep torpor as Treebranch droned on and on. Despite loving AirBall with a passion, he found it boring at the moment; he just wanted to eat something.

"Now," Treebranch meowed finally, jerking Nightpaw from a pensive dream about what he could eat for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question," Cherrynose yawned, who woke with a start. "Why didn't you us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Treebranch wasn't happy as he glowered at them. "Now you better listen up. We should have won the AirBall trophy last year. We're simply the best team here. But sadly...because of some conditions we can't control..."

Nightpaw shifted guiltily in his seat as the large cat glanced at him. He had been unconscious in the medicine cat's den for the final match of the previous year, meaning that LionClan had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years. Plus, he was knocked out after he killed Quailflight, Red Helmet's follower; he still couldn't believe he killed another cat.

Treebranch took a moment to recover from their last defeat, which was still torturing him.

"So this year, we're gonna train harder than ever! Okay, let's put our new theories into practice!" the Norwegian Forest cat shouted, flapping his set of wings and leading the way out of the locker rooms. Stiff-legged and still yawning, his team followed as slowly as a slug.

They were in the locker room for so long that the sun was up completely now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium; it was also slightly chilly. As Nightpaw padded onto the field, he saw Redpaw and Fawnpaw sitting in the stands.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Redpaw called in disbelief.

"No. Didn't even start," Nightpaw called back, looking enviously at the salmon and jam that Redpaw and Fawnpaw had brought out of the Great Hall. "Treebranch is teaching us some new moves."

He snapped the wings onto his back, flapped hard, and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped his face, waking him far more effectively than Treebranch's morning pep talk. It felt great to be back on the AirBall field, where he could fly in his element. He soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Berrytail and Cherrynose, beating them in the race.

"What's that funny clicking noise?" Berrytail suddenly called as they tore around the corner.

Nightpaw looked into the stands and groaned loudly. Mousepaw was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised and taking picture after picture. The sound was abnormally magnified in the deserted stadium.

"Look this way! Look this way!" he cried shrilly.

Berrytail faced Nightpaw and asked him, "Who the hell is that?

"I don't know," the black cat lied, putting on a jet of speed that took him as far away as possible from Mousepaw.

"What's going on over here?" Treebranch meowed, frowning, as he glided through the air to join them. "Why is that first year apprentice taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a ViperClan spy, trying to learn about our new training session and tell the others about it."

"He's a LionClan cat," Nightpaw meowed quickly.

Cherrynose spoke up, "Besides, ViperClan doesn't need a spy."

Treebranch asked him tetchily, "And why not, may I ask?"

"Because they're here right now," Cherrynose replied, pointing with his tail.

The four cats looked down and they saw several cats in green capes padding onto the AirBall field, wings strapped onto their backs.

"I don't believe this!" Treebranch hissed in outrage. "I reserved the field for our team for today! We'll see about that!"

Treebranch shot quickly toward the ground, landing harder than he meant in anger, for he was tottering slightly as his wings were shaken off of his back. Nightpaw and the Weasley twins exchanged glances before they followed their Captain.

"Flint!" Treebranch roared at the ViperClan Captain. "What're you doing here? This is our practice time! We got up specifically for this! Back off!"

Flintclaw Flint was also a Norwegian Forest Cat, but he was even larger than Treebranch. The black-&-gray tom had a look of leopard cunning on his face as he replied smoothly, "But there's plenty of room for all of us, Wood. We're here for AirBall practice."

Shadefeather, Snowfall, and Bluesplash had padded over also. There were no she-cats at all on the ViperClan team, who stood shoulder to shoulder. The other team was facing the LionClan cats, leering to a tomcat and ignoring the she-cats.

Treebranch was spitting with rage. "But I reserved the field! _I reserved it!_"

"Ah," Flintclaw purred. "But I got a specially signed note here from Brokenfang." He took out a note and read, 'I, Brokenfang Snape, give the ViperClan team permission to practice today on the AirBall field owing to the need of training their new Seeker'."

"You have a new Seeker?" Treebranch asked him, distracted from his rage as he took the letter and reread it. "Where?"

"Here."

And from behind the six large cats before them came a seventh smaller cat, a wide sneer all over his pale broad face. It was Icepaw Malfoy, his teeth bared in snobbish triumph.

"Say, aren't you a son of Blizzardclaw?" Cherrynose asked him with contempt.

As the ViperClan team's sneers widened, Icepaw sneered, "Good thing you mentioned him. How about I show you the generous gift he gave to our team?"

All seven ViperClan players started flapping their new wings. Seven pairs of highly polished platinum feathers flashed around their bodies. And seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Icarus Three Thousand and One gleamed under the LionClan cats' noses in the early morning sun. Nightpaw was amazed; now his Icarus Three Thousand had competition.

"The very latest model. Only came out a moon ago," Flintclaw meowed carelessly, licking a dot of dust from the end of his wing's feathers. "I believe it outshines the old Three Thousand series by a sizeable quantity. As for the old Sweepers..." He smiled unkindly at the Weasley twins, whose Sweeper Nines were flapping against the slight wind, "...it sweeps the board with them."

None of the cats from the LionClan AirBall team could think of anything to say. Icepaw was sneering so roughly that his cold gray eyes were reduced to slits.

Suddenly, Flintclaw looked up from the other team. "Look what we got here. A field invasion." Redpaw and Fawnpaw were now racing across the grass to see what was going on.

"I knew I smelt trouble! But what's going on?" Redpaw asked Nightpaw. "Why aren't you guys playing yet? And what the hell is HE doing here?" He was glaring at Icepaw, looking at his ViperClan AirBall cape.

"I'm the new ViperClan Seeker of the team, Weasley," Icepaw meowed arrogantly. "Everyone's just admiring the wings my father bought for our team. Of course I'm not the only thing new on the team this year."

Redpaw gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven excellent sets of wings. "Those...those are Icarus Three Thousand and Ones!"

Icepaw nodded smoothly. "I know. But perhaps the LionClan AirBall team will raise some gold and get some new wings, too. You could offer those Sweeper Nines for an auction; I imagine a museum bidding for them. You see, Weasley, unlike _other_ fathers, MY father can and will buy the best stuff."

The ViperClan AirBall team howled with laughter, but Nightpaw was furious. There had to be something in the rules of AirBall, saying that no one should buy their way into the team. It was a very fox-hearted thing to do; that showed that Icepaw got into ViperClan not for the Clan's nature, but because his family was in it.

"Luckily, no one on the LionClan team bought their way in," Fawnpaw retorted sharply. "They got in on talent and talent only. Beat that, fox-hearts!"

The smirk on Icepaw's face faded away to be replaced by an ugly snarl. "No one was asking _you_, you filthy little _kittyblood_!"

Nightpaw probably guessed that what Icepaw said was very bad, for Fawnpaw gaped at him with shock and lowered her head. He swore that he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

Suddenly, both AirBall teams leaped at each other, angrily swiping and biting each other with great rage. Flintclaw leaped right in front of Icepaw to shield him from Berrytail and Cherrynose stalking towards him. Snowfall was shrieking furiously at Icepaw as she wrestled with a big dark tabby. And Redpaw managed to slip underneath Flintclaw to get at his rival, his fur bristling with rage and his blue eyes burning.

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy!" Redpaw screeched. Pointing his tail-wand at him, he snarled, _"Eat slugs!"_

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Redpaw's tail-wand, hitting him in the belly and sending him lurching backwards onto the wet morning grass.

"Redpaw! You okay?" Fawnpaw squeaked with shock. When he didn't say anything, she added, "Say something!"

Redpaw opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he gave an enormous belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto the grass.

The ViperClan team was paralyzed with laughter. Flintclaw was doubled up, laughing so loud that his wings lifted him into the air and he had to get down. Icepaw was down on the ground, rolling on the grass and laughing. The LionClan cats were gathered around Redpaw, who kept belching large brown glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him right now, but they took the time to glare at the other AirBall team for the fox-heartedness of ViperClan.

Nightpaw told Fawnpaw, "We should get him to Badgerstripe's cabin. It's nearer." The Angora mix nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Redpaw up by the scruff.

"What happened, Nightpaw? What happened? Is he sick? But you can cure him!" Mousepaw had dashed down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Redpaw gave another huge belch and more slugs dribbled down to the ground.

Mousepaw gasped with awe, fascinated, as he meowed, "Can you hold him still, Nightpaw?"

"No, Mousepaw! Get out of the way!" Nightpaw snarled angrily. He and Fawnpaw supported Redpaw out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the Forbidden Swamp.

**...**

"Don't worry, Redpaw. We're almost there," Fawnpaw murmured to the orange tomcat as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. "You'll be okay soon...almost there..."

They were within twenty feet of Badgerstripe's hut when the front door opened, but it wasn't Badgerstripe who came out. Gloryhound Lockhart, wearing robes of palest lavender today, came strutting outside.

"Quick! Behind these brambles!" Nightpaw hissed, dragging Redpaw behind a nearby bramble bush. Fawnpaw followed, despite being slightly unwilling but willing to help her friends. But when she hesitated before diving into the bush, Nightpaw grabbed her scruff and hauled her quickly into the brambles where they hid.

Gloryhound was meowing loudly to the big black cat, "It's very simple if you know what you're doing! If you need help, you know where I am! I'll even let you have a copy of one of my books. I'm surprised you didn't even get one! I'll sign one tonight and send it over to your cabin. Well, ta-ta!"

After that, the cream-colored tom left towards the castle.

Nightpaw waited until Gloryhound was out of sight, for he hated this cat really much. Then he and Fawnpaw pulled Redpaw out of the bush and up to Badgerstripe's front door. They knocked urgently, waiting for the gamekeeper to arrive.

Badgerstripe appeared at once, looking very sullen, but his expression turned to one of relief when he saw who it was. "Good to see yeh again, kids. I was wonderin' when you'd come ter see me! Come in, come in. I thought you mighta bin Gloryhound back here again."

The two apprentices supported Redpaw over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous nest in one corner, a fire sizzling cheerily in the other. Badgerstripe didn't even seem disturbed by Redpaw's slug problem, which Nightpaw hurriedly explained as he lowered Redpaw into a spare nest. He just looked like something like this would happen.

"This calls for expert tools," Badgerstripe meowed, plunking a large copper bowl in front of him. "Better out than in, they always say! Get 'em all up."

"I don't think there's anything we can do except wait for it to stop," Fawnpaw mewed nervously, watching Redpaw bend over the bowl. "It's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a scratched tail-wand..."

Badgerstripe was cheerfully bustling around making them coffee. His fawn-colored Great Dane, Marmaduke, was padding over to the apprentices and slobbering over Nightpaw's long fur.

"What did Gloryhound want with you, Badgerstripe?" Nightpaw asked, patting Marmaduke on his great broad head with his paw.

Badgerstripe growled, moving a half-plucked rooster off his cleaned table and setting down the teapot. "Eh, just givin' me advice on gettin' lindworms out of a well. Pff, like I don't know. And he was rantin' on about some baboon that he SAID he banished. Bullshit. And if it's true, I'll eat Marmaduke for dinner."

It was unusual for Badgerstripe to criticize a mentor of the Forest like that, and Nightpaw looked at him in surprise. Fawnpaw, however, squeaked in a voice somewhat higher than usual, "No, you're just being unfair to him. Silverstar obviously thought he was the best cat for the job."

"He was the _only_ cat for the job," the panther-like cat retorted, offering them a plate of fudge while Redpaw coughed slugs into his bowl. "When I mean by the only one, I MEAN the only one. It's gettin' very hard ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. Cats ain't too excited ter take it on, you know? They're startin' ter think it's cursed. No one's lasted fer a long while now. So tell me, Redpaw," Badgerstripe meowed to the ginger tom, jerking his head at him. "Who were yeh tryin' ter curse?"

"Icepaw called Fawnpaw a name," Nightpaw answered for him. "It must have been really bad, because everyone went wild and started fighting."

"It WAS bad," Redpaw rasped huskily, emerging over the tabletop and looking pale. "Icepaw called her a...a..." But he didn't say anymore because dived out of sight again as a fresh flood of slugs made their appearance.

Fawnpaw looked awfully distraught as she swallowed. Then she rasped, "He...he called me a kittyblood."

Badgerstripe looked angry. "He did not!" he growled at her.

"He did," Nightpaw meowed. "But what's a kittyblood? I know it was rude, but I don't know what it means."

Badgerstripe was about to say something else to him, but Fawnpaw spoke up, bitterness in her tone.

"It means weak blood." Her voice shook as she croaked, "Kittyblood is a very foul name for a cat that's kittypet-born...a cat like me. It's usually not used for polite conversation."

She fell silent, so Badgerstripe went on for her, "See, Nightpaw, the thing is there are some warriors, like them Malfoys, who think they're better than others because what cats call pure-breeds. You know, being pure British Shorthair and pure-bred warrior."

"That's awful!" Nightpaw gasped.

Redpaw gave a small burp and a single slug fell onto the timber floor. He threw it into the bowl and rasped, "It's disgusting. But the rest of us know it doesn't make that much difference at all. Look at Toadpaw Longbottom: he's a pure-breed and he can't stand a pot the right way up yet."

"And it's bullshit to boot. 'Dirty blood.' Why, there ain't a warrior cat alive today that ain't half-bred or less. More to the point, they've yet to think of a spell that our Fawnpaw can't do," the gamekeeper added, making Fawnpaw blush as he beckoned her closer like a father comforting his daughter. "Come 'ere. Don't you think on it, Fawnpaw. Don't you think on it for one minute."

"He's right. But it's still a disgusting thing to call a cat," Redpaw rasped, wiping his head with a shaking forepaw. "They say it's common weak blood. It's despicable. Most warriors these days are half-bred anyways. If we hadn't mated with kittypets, we would've died out." He retched and ducked out of sight again.

Badgerstripe meowed loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin, "Yep. Weak blood doesn't count at all. And I don't blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him. But I think it's a good thing fer yer tail-wand to rebound. Blizzardclaw Malfoy would've marched up ter school if yeh cursed his son. Good to hear yer not in trouble."

Nightpaw wanted to point out that trouble didn't come as much worse than having slugs being burped out of your mouth, but he couldn't. Badgerstripe's fudge had cemented his jaws together. He had been starving without some breakfast, so he started taking some mouthfuls until his jaws were glued together tight.

"Hey, Nightpaw," Badgerstripe meowed abruptly as if he was just stricken by a sudden thought. "I gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I heard you were givin' out signed pictures. Why didn't yeh give ME one?"

Furious, Nightpaw wrenched his teeth apart. "I'm NOT giving out signed photos!" the Maine Coon mix snarled angrily. "Is Gloryhound still spreading that around?"

But then he saw that Badgerstripe was laughing. He patted Nightpaw genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. "Relax, kid. I'm only yankin' yer tail. I knew yeh really weren't givin' out signed pictures. And I told Gloryhound yeh didn't need to. Yer more famous than him without even tryin'."

"I bet he didn't like that," Nightpaw meowed, sitting up and rubbing his chin with his forepaw.

"Nah. Don't think he did," Badgerstripe agreed. "So after that, I told him 'I'm never gonna read one o' yer books! Never!' and he decided to go. You want any fudge?" he added to Redpaw as the ginger tom reappeared.

"No thanks. Better not risk it," Redpaw groaned weakly.

As Nightpaw and Fawnpaw finished lapping up their coffee, Badgerstripe went on, "Come with me, you three. Look and see what I've bin growin'."

The three apprentices exchanged glances before following him out of the cabin.

In the small vegetable patch behind Badgerstripe's hut were a dozen of the largest pumpkins that Nightpaw had ever seen in his life. Each pumpkin was the size of a large boulder and just as wide.

"Getting' on well, ain't they?" Badgerstripe purred happily. "They're fer the Halloween banquet. They oughta be big enough by then."

"So what'd you feed them?" Nightpaw asked.

The gamekeeper looked over his shoulder to see if they were alone before turning back around. "Oh, I gave them...you know...water, fertilizer, and...some help."

Nightpaw turned to see Badgerstripe's lean light brown staff leaning against the back wall of the cabin. The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix had reason to believe before now that this staff was not at all as it looked; in fact, he had the strong impression that Badgerstripe's old school tail-wand was still hidden inside it. Plus, this staff was given to the big black cat from a supposedly futuristic cat.

The gamekeeper of the Forest wasn't even supposed to use any magic. He had been exiled from the Forest in his third year, but Nightpaw had never found out why. If anyone mentioned of the matter, Badgerstripe would clear his throat loudly and become strangely deaf until the subject was changed. Nightpaw supposed that this could hurt his giant friend's self-esteem, so he had decided to never press him on with that.

"You've been using a Growth Spell on them?" Fawnpaw asked Badgerstripe with a mixture of censure and respect in her tone. "That's awesome."

"Yep," he replied back. To Redpaw, he told him, "Yer sister said the exact same thing. I met her just yesterday." He looked sideways at Nightpaw, his whiskers twitching. "Said she was just lookin' round the grounds, but I believe she hoped she'd run into someone else at my hut." He winked at Nightpaw and teased him, "And _she_ wouldn' say no to a signed photo..."

"Shut up," Nightpaw whined.

Redpaw snorted with laughter and the ground was littered with more slugs. Badgerstripe pulled the American Shorthair away from his precious pumpkins, growling, "Hey!"

It was nearly time for lunch and, as he had only had one portion of fudge since sunrise, Nightpaw was very intense to go back to school to eat. They said good-bye to Badgerstripe and prowled back up to the castle. Redpaw kept on coughing sometimes, but he only brought up two very small slugs.

**...**

They barely set paw in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter and Weasley." Thistleheart McGonagall was padding toward them, looking stern. "You shall both do your detentions this twilight."

Nightpaw sighed inwardly; he had forgotten that he and his friend got detention, thanks to the flying monster. But he knew that they had to do them, or they would get into deeper trouble.

"So what'll we do?" Redpaw mewled, tensely holding back a burp.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Oscar Filch," the pale tabby deputy told him. "And no magic allowed for this, Weasley. Just as the Twolegs say: elbow grease."

Redpaw gulped and Nightpaw lashed his tail a little. Oscar Filch, the brown-furred custodian, was detested by every apprentice in the entire school.

"And you, Potter, shall be helping Gloryhound Lockhart answer his fan mail," Thistleheart went on.

"What? Can't I just go and help out with the trophy room, too?" Nightpaw mewled desperately. He did not want to work with that cat whatever he was told to do.

Thistleheart frowned at him. "I'm afraid not. He requested you mainly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Tails dragging and ears flattened, Nightpaw and Redpaw slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom. Fawnpaw was padding right after them, wearing a _well-you-_did_-break-school-rules_ expression on her face. Nightpaw didn't enjoy his rabbit roast as much as he thought. Both tomcats felt that they themselves got the worse deal.

"Oscar's gonna have me there all night long!" Redpaw sighed heavily. "And no magic! There's probably a hundred trophies in that room! I'm no good at cleaning up like a Twoleg!"

"I wish I can swap with you," Nightpaw muttered flatly. "I've had lots of practice with Daniel and the Dursleys cats. Answering Gloryhound's fan mail is gonna be a nightmare."

**...**

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away like a shadow, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight. Now Nightpaw was dragging his paws along the second-floor corridor to Gloryhound's office. At first, he felt like fleeing from the office and back to his nest for the rest of the night, but he couldn't. He either had to do the punishment or get into even deeper trouble with the mentors of the Forest.

_Now or never._ He sighed, gritted his teeth, and knocked at the door with his large front paws.

The door flew open at once and Gloryhound beamed down at him. "Ah! Here's the little scamp! Come in, Nightpaw! Come in!"

Shining luminously on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed pictures of the cream-colored Cornish Rex. He had even signed a few of them while another large pile of unsigned pictures lay on his desk.

"How about you address the envelopes?" Gloryhound asked Nightpaw as if he was getting a huge cat treat. "This first one is to Ms. Gudgeon; bless her soul...huge fan of mine."

The minutes sailed by very slowly, as slowly as a snail. Nightpaw let Gloryhound's voice wash over him, sometimes mewing, "Mm-hm," "Right," and "Sure." Now and then, he caught a very hypocritical sentence like, "Nightpaw, Nightpaw, Nightpaw. Can you imagine a better way to serve detention than helping me to answer my fan mail?"

"Not really," Nightpaw muttered tiredly.

"Fame is a fickle friend," Gloryhound sighed happily. "Celebrity is as celebrity does. Remember that, Nightpaw."

The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the countless moving faces of Gloryhound watching him. Nightpaw moved his aching jaws over what seemed to feel like the thousandth envelope, writing out Ms. Smethley's address. _It has to be time to leave right now_, Nightpaw thought miserably. _Please let it be time..._

And then he heard something, something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Gloryhound's blathering about his fans. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking freezing malice.

"_Blood...I smell blood... Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you..."_

Nightpaw gave a huge jump and a large lavender blot appeared on Ms. Smethley's street. "HUH?"

"I know!" Gloryhound announced. "It's six solid moons at the top of the best-seller list! It broke all records!"

"Not that! That voice!"

Gloryhound looked puzzled. "Excuse me? What voice?"

Nightpaw rasped, "That...that voice that said... Didn't you hear it?"

Gloryhound was looking at Nightpaw in high astonishment. "What on earth are you meowing about, Nightpaw? You getting a little drowsy? Great Scott, look at the time! Looks like we've been here for nearly four hours! I can't believe it; time sure does fly, now doesn't it?"

The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix didn't answer. He was swiveling his ears around to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now. He couldn't hear anything except for Gloryhound telling him that he shouldn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention. Feeling stunned and unable to protest by calling him a mouse-brain, Nightpaw left.

It was so late that the LionClan camp room was almost nearly empty. Nightpaw went straight up to the dormitory to see that Redpaw wasn't back yet. Nightpaw quickly grabbed a passing shrew to eat, got into his nest, and waited. Half an hour later, Redpaw arrived, limping without his right front leg and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.

"My muscles are seized up now," the American Shorthair groaned, sinking gratefully into his nest. "He made me shine that AirBall trophy around fourteen times before he was satisfied with it. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Deeds to the School. Took me ages to get all that slime off. Was detention with Gloryhound okay?"

Keeping his voice low to not wake the other three sleeping toms, Nightpaw told Redpaw exactly what he had heard.

"And Gloryhound said that he couldn't hear it?" his friend asked. Nightpaw could easily see him frowning in the moonlight, his ginger fur turning pale silver. "Was he lying? But I don't get it; even someone invisible would've opened the door."

"Yeah," Nightpaw replied, lying back in his nest and staring at the canopy above him. "I don't get it either."

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: So Ron, who'd you choose to say the review thing?**

**Ron: snowwhistle.**

**AvatarCat11: Cool! Bring him in!**

**snowwhistle: (Comes into the room) Long time no see! (AvatarCat11 hands him a box of Chips Ahoy cookies) Thanks! Now onto the review thing!**

**Anyone who wants to review will be given a box of cookies like mine!**

**AvatarCat11: And since some readers haven't read and reviewed my stories too much, I might have to reduce the gifts that get sent to other readers.**

**AvatarCat11, Ron, and snowwhistle: See ya next time!**


	8. A Death Day Party

**AvatarCat11: (Sitting with fanfic meister in the room) Where's Harry at?**

**Harry: Right here. But we'll have to leave for a few chapters. So Katara and Holly can come over here, right?**

**fanfic meister: Yep. We can help fill you in on the details of each chapter, if you'd like.**

**Harry: Thanks! May I say the disclaimer?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure! And I met Ginny on chapter five, and she's quite the woman! She's lucky to have a cool guy like you.**

**fanfic meister: And here's an Avatar Aang plush doll for you and Ginny.**

**Harry: Thanks. Anyways, here's the disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: There's no way on Earth that AvatarCat11 will ever own my book series or Warrior Cats. J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter owns both these book series.**

**Updating Date: July 22, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, fanfic meister, and Harry: Enjoy!**

**...**

_A Death Day Party_

The moon called October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the ground, into the castle, and over the island. Poppyleaf Pomfrey, the medicine cat, was kept busy by a sudden wave of colds among the staff and apprentices. Her Pepper-Up potion worked rapidly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for quite a few hours afterward. Leafpaw, who had been looking tired over the past moon, was pushed into taking some by Sandthorn. The steam pouring from under her long ginger fur gave the impression that her entire body was on fire.

Raindrops the size of minnows thundered on the castle windows for days; the water at the island shore rose, the flower beds turned into dark creeks, and Badgerstripe's pumpkins swelled to the size of rhinos. Treebranch's passion for regular training sessions, though, was not stifled, which was why Nightpaw was to be found returning to the LionClan Tower. His long black fur was wet and spattered with mud late one rainy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween.

Aside from the rain and wind, it wasn't a happy practice session. Berrytail and Cherrynose, who turned themselves into spies against the ViperClan AirBall team, had seen the speed of those new Icarus Three Thousand and One wings. They reported that the ViperClan cats were no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like hail.

As Nightpaw stumbled along the deserted corridor, he came across somebody who looked just as worried as he was. Headlesshead Nick, the ghost of LionClan Tower, was staring sullenly out of a window, muttering under his breath, "...don't fulfill their requests...half an inch, if that..."

"Hey, Nick," Nightpaw meowed. This was Headlesshead's new nickname among the cats.

"Hello there, young tom," Nick replied, starting and looking round.

He was wearing a jaunty plumed hat on his long curly-furred gray head, and a tunic with a ruff, which covered the fact that his neck was almost completely cut off. He was pale as mist, and Nightpaw could see right through him to the dark sky and pouring rain outside.

"You look anxious, young Potter," Nick spoke up, folding a clear letter as he spoke and tucking it inside a bag around his neck.

"Yeah. So do you," Nightpaw replied.

Nick waved an elegant paw through the air. "Ah...a matter of little meaning. It's not as if I really wanted to join. I thought I would apply, but apparently, I 'don't fulfill requests.'"

In spite of his casual tone, there was a look of great resentment on his face.

"But you would think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the throat with a blunted tomahawk would let you join the Headless Hunt?" he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his bag.

Nightpaw, who was clearly supposed to agree, mewed, "Um...yeah. Sure."

"Nobody wishes more than I do that it was quick and clean, and my head would come off the proper way. I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and scorn. Sadly..." Nick shook his letter open and read furiously:

"'_We can only accept warrior ghosts whose heads have parted from their bodies. You will know that it would be difficult otherwise for members to partake in hunt activities such as Head-Juggling and Head Football. It is with the greatest guilt, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requests._

_Best wishes, Sir Shrewclaw Delaney-Podmore.'"_

Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away.

"It's just half an inch of skin, fur, and sinew holding my neck on, Nightpaw! Most cats would think that it's all good and beheaded! But oh, no! It isn't enough for Sir Correctly Decapitated-Podmore." Headlesshead Nick took several deep breaths and then went on, in a far calmer tone, "So what's bothering you? Anything I can do for you, young sir?"

Nightpaw shook his head. "Unless you know where we can get seven Icarus Three Thousand and One wings for free. We gotta get ready for our match against Viper..."

The rest of Nightpaw's sentence was drowned out by a shrill hissing noise from somewhere near his tail. He looked around and found himself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mr. Sniffer, the skinny brown ferret who was used by the custodian, Oscar Filch, as an agent in his endless battle against other cats.

"I think you should get out of here," Headlesshead Nick mewed quickly. "Oscar isn't happy. He just got the cold and some third year warriors accidentally coated toad brains all over the ceiling in Chamber Five. He's been cleaning it up all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place..."

Nightpaw nodded. "Got it."

He began backing away from the accusing stare of Mr. Sniffer, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the shadowy power that seemed to connect him with his foul ferret, Oscar tore very suddenly through a drapery to Nightpaw's right, puffing and looking madly around for the rule-breaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around the brown cat's neck and his nose was oddly purple.

"Filth!" he shrieked, his whiskers trembling. His yellow eyes were popping chillingly as he pointed his muzzle at the mud puddle that dripped from Nightpaw's long black pelt and AirBall cape. "There's always muck and mess everywhere! I've had enough of it! Follow me, Potter!"

So Nightpaw waved an unhappy good-bye to Headlesshead Nick with his tail and followed the angry Oscar back downstairs, making more muddy pawprints on the castle floor. When they arrived, Nightpaw saw that he had never been inside Oscar's office before; it was a place that most cats avoided.

The room was grimy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp dangling from the low ceiling. A faint scent of deep-fried trout lingered about the place. Timber splinter cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Nightpaw saw that they contained details of every apprentice that Oscar had ever punished. Even Berrytail and Cherrynose Weasley had an entire drawer to themselves.

A highly polished collection of chains and shackles were hanging on the wall behind Oscar's desk. It was common knowledge that he had been complaining to Silverstar for some approval to let him hang cats by their tails from the ceiling. Nightpaw didn't want to stay around here or he would be hanging from the ceiling like a bat or an opossum.

Oscar grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk in his jaws and began scuffling around, looking for a scroll.

"Muck," the brown tom muttered furiously. "Great burning griffin mucus. Toad brains. Mouse entrails. I'm sick of this! Make an example! Where's that form? Yes..."

He retrieved a large pile of scrolls from his desk drawer and stretched one sheet out in front of him. Then he began plunging his long black quill into the ink pot. "Name: Nightpaw Potter. Offense..."

"It was only mud!" Nightpaw protested.

"It may be only mud to you! But to ME, it's another hour of cleaning!" Oscar snapped; there, he saw a drip shaking nastily at the end of his round nose. "Offense: soiling the castle. Suggested verdict..."

Wiping his running nose, Oscar peered unkindly at Nightpaw, who waited with bated breath for his sentence to come. But as the dark brown tom lowered his quill, there was a great loud bang on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.

Oscar roared, flinging down his quill in a rage, "JOKER! I'll have you this time! I'll have you!"

And without a backward glance at Nightpaw, the custodian ran angrily from his dim office, Mr. Sniffer zooming alongside him.

The Joker was the school's only demon, a grinning floating menace that lived to cause chaos and anguish. Nightpaw didn't much like that demon, but he couldn't help feeling appreciative for his good timing. With any bit of luck, whatever the Joker had done (and it sounded as if he ruined something very big this time) would distract Oscar from announcing the sentence.

Thinking that he should wait for Oscar to return, Nightpaw sank into a tattered chair next to the desk. But there was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a big glossy purple envelope with silver writing on the front.

With a quick look at the door to check that Oscar wasn't on his way back, Nightpaw padded over to the letter, flipped it over, and read:

Quick Spell

_A Correspondence Course in Beginners' Magic._

Interested, Nightpaw flipped the envelope open and pulled out the stack of paper inside. There was some more wavy silver writing on the front page that said:

_Do you feel out of step in the world of modern magic and Warriorism? Do you find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Have you ever been taunted for your sad work of a tail-wand?_

_There is an answer!_

_Quick Spell is an all-new fail-safe quick-result easy-learn course. Hundreds of warrior cats around the world have benefited from the Quick Spell method!_

_Z. Nettles of Manhattan, New York, says:_

"_I had no memory for spells and my potions were nothing but a big joke! Now, after a Quick Spell course, I am the center of attention at parties and associates beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!"_

_D. J. Prod of Mobile, Alabama, says:_

"_My mate used to sneer at my weak charms, but after one moon into your excellent Quick Spell course, I managed to her into a bison! Thank you, Quick Spell!"_

Amazed, Nightpaw thumbed through the rest of the envelope's contents. _Why in StarClan's name does Oscar want a Quick Spell course? Does this mean he's not a true warrior cat?_ Wanting to learn some more about why Oscar needed this, he began reading it through carefully.

The young black tomcat was just reading Lesson One: Holding Your Tail-Wand Up (Some Handy Tips) when shuffling pawsteps outside told him that Oscar was returning. Quickly stuffing the letter back into the envelope, Nightpaw threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened. The dark brown custodian was looking victorious indeed.

"That vanishing cupboard really works!" he was meowing merrily to Mr. Sniffer. "I promise you, my friend, that we'll have the Joker out of here this time!"

But suddenly, he stopped short. His yellow eyes fell on Nightpaw and then darted to the Quick Spell envelope, which was lying two feet away from where it had started. Nightpaw couldn't go and pick it up now, although a made-up story of the wind blowing it around danced in his head.

Oscar's dusty-looking face began to screw up real tight as if he had just bitten into a lemon. The young Maine Coon mix braced himself for a tsunami of vehemence. Oscar shambled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.

"Have you...did you read it?" he spat.

"No sir," Nightpaw lied quickly.

Oscar's crooked front paws were unsheathing their claws. "If I thought you read my private...not that it's mine. It's for a friend. Even so, however..."

Nightpaw was staring at him, feeling disturbed; he had never seen Oscar look so angry before. His yellow eyes were bulging, a twitch was going in one of his flaccid cheeks, and the plaid scarf around his neck didn't help much either.

Finally, he growled, "Fine. Go, and don't breathe a word. Not that...however, if you didn't read it... Go now, don't tell anyone, and I won't tell anyone of this. I have to write up the Joker's report anyway."

Amazed at his luck, Nightpaw raced out of the office, up the corridor, and back upstairs. To escape from Oscar's torture office without any punishment was maybe some kind of school record.

"Nightpaw! Did it work?"

Headlesshead Nick was just gliding out of a classroom. Behind him, Nightpaw could see the wreckage of a large white-and-silver cupboard that appeared to have been dropped from a great height. It appeared that the Joker had done this, since the demon cat loved to create chaos and mayhem.

"I persuaded the Joker to crash it right over Oscar's office," Nick told him eagerly. "Thought it might sidetrack him…"

"So that was you?" Nightpaw meowed thankfully. "It worked, so I didn't even get any detention. Thank you, Nick!"

After that, they set off up the corridor together. Headlesshead Nick, Nightpaw seemed to notice, was still holding his refusal letter.

As Nightpaw padded quietly after his spectral friend, he meowed, "I wish I could help you with this Headless Hunt of yours."

The ghostly feline stopped in his tracks and turned around, and Nightpaw walked right through him. He wished he didn't walk right through him; it was like hiking through a freezing waterfall on a very cold day.

"Actually, there IS a way you could help," Nick answered excitedly. "Nightpaw, would I ask too much…but no, I'm sure you wouldn't want to."

Nightpaw flicked his ears to him, a way to show that he was listening.

So Headlesshead Nick drew himself up, looking dignified, and explained, "Well, this Halloween will be my five-hundredth Death Day."

Nightpaw nodded, foe he was not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this.

"I'm holding a party down in one of the larger chambers. Friends will be coming from all over the United States, including Hawaii. It would be such an honor if you would attend. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will be very welcome too, of course, but I thought you would rather join the school feast?" He watched Nightpaw on tenterhooks.

"I'm not too busy," Nightpaw meowed. "I'll come."

"This...this is perfect! The Cat Who Lived attending my Death Day party! And..." he hesitated, looking excited, "...do you think you could mention to Sir Shrewclaw how scary and inspiring you find me?"

Nightpaw nodded. "Sure."

Headlesshead Nick smiled broadly at him.

**...**

"A Death Day party?" Fawnpaw meowed keenly when Nightpaw cleaned himself and joined the other Golden Trio members in the camp room. "I bet you some mouse tails there aren't many living cats that can say they've been to one of those. I bet it's awesome!"

"Why would anyone celebrate the day of their death?" Redpaw mumbled, who was just nearly through his Potions homework and sullen. "Sounds gloomy to me."

Rain was still lashing at the windows like long tails, but inside, all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the numerous soft armchairs where cats sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Berrytail and Cherrynose, trying to find out what would happen if anyone fed an Eruption firework to a Salamander.

Berrytail had "rescued" the fiery-orange fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Other Animals class and it was now flaming gently on a table surrounded by a clowder of curious cats.

Nightpaw was just going to tell his friends all about Oscar and the Quick Spell letter when the Salamander suddenly hissed into the air, releasing loud sparks and bangs as it spun wildly around the room. Sandthorn ended up bellowing himself hoarse at the twins, the great presentation of orange stars showering from the Salamander's mouth and its escape into the fire, with associated explosions.

Even that drove both Oscar and the Quick Spell envelope from Nightpaw's mind.

**...**

By the time Halloween arrived, Nightpaw regretted his rushed promise to go to the Death Day party. The rest of the school was happily expecting their Halloween banquet; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live brown bats, Badgerstripe's big pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three Twolegs to sit in, and there were rumors that Silverstar reserved a cast of dancing wolfbats for entertainment.

"It's wrong to break promises," Fawnpaw told Nightpaw bossily. "You made a promise to go to the Death Day party."

Nightpaw retorted, "I know already, okay?"

So at seven p.m., the Golden Trio padded past the doorway to the packed Great Hall. It was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the chambers. They couldn't turn back now; it was either now or never.

The hallway leading to Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was not at all cheerful. These were long thin black candles, all burning bright blue, casting a dim ghostlike light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped even lower with every pawstep they took.

As Nightpaw shivered and tried to fluff up his fur to get himself warm, he heard what sounded like a long sharp tiger-like claws scraping an enormous blackboard.

"That supposed to be music?" Redpaw whispered. They turned around corner and saw Headlesshead Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet curtains.

"My dear friends," he purred somberly. "Welcome, welcome. So pleased you could come." He swept off his plumed hat with his forepaw and bowed them inside.

It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white translucent cats and other global animals, mostly drifting across a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the awful shaky sound of thirty musical teeth grinding a stone, played by an orchestra on a raised black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a fog before them; it was like stepping into abnormally freezing snow.

Wanting to warm up, Nightpaw suggested, "Should we look around?"

"Yeah. Just don't walk through anyone," Redpaw mewed tensely, and they padded around the edge of the dance floor.

They passed a group of gloomy fallow deer, a scruffy mongoose wearing shackles, and the Chubby Monk, a cheerful BadgerClan ghost, who was talking to a wild boar with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Nightpaw wasn't astonished to see that the Gory Gaunt, a thin gazing ViperClan ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being kept a distance by the other ghosts.

Suddenly, Fawnpaw stopped and hissed, "Oh no. Oh HELL no. Turn back, turn back! I don't want to talk to Carping Turtleneck!" Seeing the confused look on Nightpaw's face as they did a U-turn, she meowed, "She haunts one of the latrines in the she-cats' restroom on the first floor."

"She haunts a latrine?"

"Yeah. It's been shut down all year because she keeps having hissy fits and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to piss with her wailing up at you."

"Food!" Redpaw meowed.

On the other side of the chamber was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it keenly, but in the next moment, they stopped in their tracks, horrified.

The smell was quite disgusting. Large rotten tuna were laid on handsome silver trays; cupcakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on plates; there was a great wormy haggis, a lump of bread covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, a huge gray cake in the shape of a gravestone, with tar-like icing forming these words:

SIR NICHOLAS DE MINTY-POMPTON

DIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1512

Nightpaw watched, startled, as a stout badger ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it. His jaws were held wide so that the teeth passed through one of the foul-smelling tuna.

"Can you taste it if you walk though it?" he asked the ghost.

"Nearly," the badger ghost replied sadly and floated away.

As Fawnpaw crouched low to inspect the haggis, she retched a little and turned away. "I'm sure they let it decay to give it a stronger flavor."

"Can we move now?" Redpaw moaned, sounding ill. "I feel sick."

They had barely turned around, however, when a little black cat-shaped demon lunged suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in mid-flight before them. Nightpaw saw that not only the ghosts of diverse animals were invited to the party.

"Hey, Joker. How's it been?" Nightpaw meowed cautiously.

Unlike the ghosts around them, the Joker, the Forest's only demon, was the very reverse of pale and clear. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a spinning bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide wicked face.

"Appetizers?" he said amiably, offering them a bowl of mice covered in mold.

Fawnpaw shook her head and the Joker looked over at the light brown tabby she-cat.

His eyes dancing, the demon cat giggled, "I heard you talking about poor Turtleneck. You were so RUDE talking about poor Turtleneck." He took a deep breath and yelled, "HEY, TURTLENECK!"

"Don't, Joker! Don't tell her what I said! She'll be very upset!" Fawnpaw hissed wildly. "I didn't mean it! I don't mind her...um...hey, Turtleneck."

The squat ghost of a brown she-cat with a flat face had glided over to them. She had the sulkiest face that Nightpaw had ever seen, half-hidden behind long hair fur and thick pearly glasses. He had seen Sandthorn with glasses before, but he had also seen markings that looked much like glasses.

"What?" she mewed sulkily.

"How've you been?" Fawnpaw mewed in a falsely bright voice. "Good to see you out of the restroom."

Turtleneck sniveled as the Joker whispered slyly in her ear, "Miss Granger was just talking about you. Just saying stuff."

Giving the Joker a glare, Fawnpaw meowed, "I-I-I was just saying how...um...nice you look tonight."

But Turtleneck eyed the Angora mix suspiciously with silver tears immediately flooding from her clear eyes. "You're making fun of me!"

"No! Honestly! Hey, guys! Didn't I just say how nice Turtleneck looks?" Fawnpaw meowed. To get the toms to partake in this, she stepped on their tails painfully with her back paws.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Yeah, she did!"

Turtleneck wailed, tears now flooding down her face, while the Joker snickered happily over her shoulder, "Don't even lie to me! Do you think I don't know what other cats call me behind my back? Fat Turtleneck! Ugly Turtleneck! Wretched, moaning, sulking Turtleneck!"

"Don't forget spotty," the Joker hissed in her ear.

Carping Turtleneck burst into tormented sobs and fled from the chamber. The Joker shot right after her, throwing moldy mice at her and yelling, "Spotty! Spotty!"

"Crap," Fawnpaw mewed sadly.

Headlesshead Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd. "Hello, you three. Enjoying yourselves?"

They nodded.

"It's not a bad crowd," Headlesshead Nick meowed proudly. "The Weeping Wallaby came all the way up from Tasmania. It's almost time for my speech. I should go warn the orchestra."

The orchestra, however, had stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon plus the three live cats, fell silent and looked around in excitement as a hunting horn sounded.

"Oh, HERE we go," Headlesshead Nick muttered bitterly.

**(Author's Note: On the Avatar: The Last AirBender episode called "Sokka's Master", when Sokka asks to be Piando's pupil, Piando says "Oh, HERE we go." That's how Headlesshead Nick says it.)**

Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost Clydesdale horses, each ridden by a headless warrior cat. The assembly cheered wildly; Nightpaw started to cheer, too, but they had already stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face.

The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large black ghost cat that held his head under his foreleg, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost cat leapt down, let his horse lift his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Headlesshead Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

"Nick! Hello there!" he roared. "How are you, my good chap? Your head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Headlesshead Nick on the shoulder with his paw while the LionClan ghost greeted him reluctantly.

"Live cats!" Sir Shrewclaw yowled, spotting the Golden Trio and giving a fake jump of shock, so that his head fell off again. The crowd howled with laughter once again.

Headlesshead Nick spat darkly, "Very funny."

Sir Shrewclaw's head yowled to the Golden Trio from the floor, "Don't mind Nick! He's still upset that we won't let him join the Hunt! But look at the fellow..."

At a meaningful look from Nick, Nightpaw meowed, "Nick's very scary and...powerful."

"Ha!" Sir Shrewclaw's head exclaimed. "I bet he asked you to say that!"

"If I could have everyone's attention, please, it's time for my speech!" Nick announced loudly, striding toward the platform and going into an icy blue spotlight. "My lately mourned comrades, it is with great sorrow that I..."

But nobody heard much more about that dialogue. Sir Shrewclaw and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Football and the audience was turning around to watch. Headlesshead Nick tried vainly to recapture his onlookers, but he gave up as Sir Shrewclaw's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.

Nightpaw was very cold by now, not to mention hungry. He and his friends had probably just missed the Halloween feast, but he knew that it was his own fault. If he hadn't agreed to make that promise, they would be warm and fully fed.

"I can't take it anymore," Redpaw muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghostly animals swept back onto the dance floor.

"Let's go, then," Nightpaw agreed.

The Golden Trio backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them. One minute later, they were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.

**...**

"I hope dessert's not finished yet," Redpaw meowed hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall. Nightpaw agreed, hoping to sink his teeth into a mouse tart

And then he heard it.

"_R__ip...tear...kill..."_

It was the same voice, the same icy deadly voice he had heard in Gloryhound's office. This time, the hissing was getting louder than before.

Nightpaw stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall and listening with all his might. The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix looked around, squinting up and down the indistinctly lit passageway.

"Nightpaw, what're you doing?" Fawnpaw asked him.

"It's that voice again! Shhh!" He pressed his ear against the wall to hear it some more.

"_So__ hungry...after so long..."_

Nightpaw hissed directly to his friends, urging them to listen. But Redpaw and Fawnpaw froze, watching him as if he had lost his mind.

"_Kill...__time to kill..."_

The voice was growing fainter now, but it wasn't relaxing. Nightpaw was sure it was moving away…moving upward. A mixture of dread and excitement gripped him like teeth as he stared at the dark ceiling. _How could it be moving upward? Is it a phantom, not worrying about stone ceilings?_

"Quick! This way!" he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall.

It was no good to hear anything here, the hum of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Nightpaw hurried up the limestone staircase to the first floor, his two friends clattering behind him.

"Nightpaw, what are we..."

"SHH!"

Nightpaw crouched low to the ground and swiveled his ears around. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice howl: _"I smell blood...I SMELL BLOOD!"_

His stomach lurched at the revelation.

"It's fixing to kill someone!" he yowled.

Ignoring Redpaw's and Fawnpaw's bewildered faces, he leapt up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding pawsteps. Nightpaw careered through the entire second floor, the other two Golden Trio cats panting behind him. They didn't stop at all until they turned a corner into the last deserted passage.

"Nightpaw, what the hell was that about?" Redpaw panted. "I didn't hear anything."

But Fawnpaw gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor with her tail. "Look!"

Something was shining on the wall up ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness and hoping that their eyes adjust to the dark. Red bear-sized words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CAVERN OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED ONCE MORE.

FOES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!

"Wait. What's that...hanging below?" Redpaw mewed, a slight shiver in his voice.

As they edged nearer, Nightpaw almost slipped on his own paws; there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Redpaw and Fawnpaw pulled him up by the scruff, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash and a yowl.

Mr. Sniffer, the custodian's ferret, was hanging by his short tail from the torch bracket. He was as stiff as a beached whale, his eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, they didn't move a bit. Then Redpaw whispered, "Let's get out of here."

"Should we help?" Nightpaw began clumsily.

"Not now," the ginger American Shorthair replied. "We don't want to be seen here."

But it was too late. A rumble, as if of distant thunder in the sky, told them that the banquet had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of paws climbing the stairs, and the loud contented talk of well-fed felines. In the next moment, cats were padding into the passage from both ends.

The gossip, the activity, and the noise died down suddenly as the cats in front of the crowd saw the hanging ferret. Nightpaw, Redpaw, and Fawnpaw stood there all alone, in the middle of the passageway, as silence fell among the mass of cats pressing forward to see the horrible sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet: "Foes of the Heir, beware!"

It was Icepaw Malfoy. The British Shorthair had pushed to the front of the crowd, his icy gray eyes alive and his usually pale face glowing. He even had a sneering look on his face at the sight of the dangling motionless ferret.

And seeing Fawnpaw, the black-&-silver tabby tomcat jeered, "You'll be next, Kittybloods!"

_To be continued…_

**...**

**fanfic meister: Glad you're enjoying this so far, Harry!**

**AvatarCat11: I agree. And where will you and your friends be going off to?**

**Harry: Maybe to Durmstrang to help the students out. Ron's not gonna like that.**

**AvatarCat11: Well, good luck to you. So see ya later! (Hands him a box of cookies to share)**

**Harry: (Catches the box easily) Thanks! See ya next time! (Apparates away)**

**fanfic meister: (To the readers) just like Harry, you can get a box of cookies of your choice and either a plush doll from Harry Potter or Avatar: The Last AirBender.**

**AvatarCat11: I agree with you again!**

**AvatarCat11 and fanfic meister: See ya next time!**


	9. The Message On The Wall

**AvatarCat11: It's been quite a while since I uploaded this story, and I believe that it's time to update it now. But first, Katara and Holly are coming over here to add on to the talking I usually put before and after the chapters.**

**(Katara and Holly come into the office)**

**Katara: It's good to be commenting on the Nightfang series again with you!**

**Holly: I know! I remember reading the first book of this series and the ending was really amazing! This is so great to read this again! But where's the Golden Trio?**

**AvatarCat11: They're on vacation. Anyways, I'm glad you two like this series also. Now who wants to say the disclaimer?**

**Holly: May I?**

**AvatarCat11: (while Katara nods) Sure.**

**Holly: Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: There's no way, even for a million dollars, that AvatarCat11 will ever own Harry Potter or Warrior Cats!**

**Updating Date: August 17, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Message On The Wall_

"What's going on here? What's with the crowd?"

Attracted no doubt by Icepaw's yowl, Oscar Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mr. Sniffer and fell back, his face frozen in horror.

"Mr...Mr. Sniffer?" the brown cat mewed with horror. "What...what's happened to you?"

But his eyes fell on Nightpaw and he hissed at him, "You...you've killed my ferret."

"I didn't," Nightpaw meowed at once.

"You've killed him. I'll kill you," Oscar rasped. Then he loudly snarled, "I'll kill you! I'll..."

"Oscar! What's going on?"

Silverstar had finally arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other mentors. The silver tabby Persian tom looked up at the frozen ferret, his blue eyes narrowing with surprise. In a few seconds, he quickly padded past the Golden Trio and disconnected Mr. Sniffer from the torch bracket.

To Oscar, he meowed, "Come with me, Oscar." To everyone else, he meowed, "Everyone can leave except...you three."

He was pointing his tail to the Golden Trio. Nightpaw, Redpaw, and Fawnpaw glanced at one another and nodded while Gloryhound stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Sir. Just upstairs. Please feel free."

"Thank you, Gloryhound," Silverstar replied, dipping his head to him.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass before they padded away to their Clan common rooms. Gloryhound, looking excited and arrogant indeed, hurried after the leader of the Forest. The two mentors that were with him, Thistleheart and Brokenfang, followed him also.

As they entered the Cornish Rex's pitch-black office, there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Nightpaw saw several of the pictures of Gloryhound ducking out of sight, their head fur in whitecaps. The real Gloryhound lit up the candles on his desk and stood back. Silverstar lay Mr. Sniffer on the polished surface and began to examine her. The Golden Trio exchanged anxious looks and sat down into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Silverstar's long bushy tail was barely an inch from Mr. Sniffer's own brown fur. He was looking at him closely through his half-moon spectacles that he used for examining stuff, his large paws gently jabbing and poking. Thistleheart was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Brokenfang appeared behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most odd expression. It was as if he was trying not to smile. And Gloryhound was hovering around all of them, making very bad suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed him...probably the Transmogrifying Torture. I have seen it used many times, so unfortunate I wasn't there. I know the very counter curse that would have saved him."

_Shut it already, _Nightpaw almost snapped at him.

The creamy tom's comments were interrupted by Oscar's dry racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at his pet ferret and staring down at the floor. Despite disliking Oscar, Nightpaw couldn't help but feel sorry for him, though not as sorry as he felt for himself. If Silverstar believed the dark brown tom, he would be exiled for sure.

The leader of the Forest was now mumbling odd words under his breath and tapping Mr. Sniffer with his tail-wand and claws, but nothing happened. He continued to look as if he was recently stuffed.

Gloryhound was still babbling on, "I remember something related occurring at Fukue Island in Japan. It was a series of attacks; the full story's in my life story. I was able to offer the citizens many charms, which cleared the matter up at once."

Nightpaw unsheathed his claws at that, but he stopped himself to keep others unaware of this.

But the photographs of Gloryhound on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his whitecap.

At last, Silverstar straightened up and meowed softly, "He's not dead."

Gloryhound stopped tersely in the middle of counting the number of killings he had prevented. Nightpaw was happy that this cat shut up for once.

Oscar rasped as he looked up at his ferret. "Not dead? But why's he all...stiff and frozen?"

"He has been Petrified," Silverstar meowed ("Ah! Thought so!" Gloryhound meowed)."But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask him!" Oscar hissed, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Nightpaw. "He's done it! You saw the message he wrote on the wall! In my office, he found out I'm a...I'm a..." Oscar's face worked awfully and finished, "He found out I'm a rogue!"

"I didn't do it! I swear! I never touched Mr. Sniffer!" Nightpaw meowed loudly, conscious of everyone looking at him, including all the portraits on the walls. "And I don't even know what a rogue is."

Oscar just spat, "Rubbish!"

Silverstar calmly replied, "Oscar, no second year cat could have done this. It would take Dark Magic of the most progressive kind to do this sort of thing."

"May I speak, Silverstar?"

Brokenfang had spoken, stepping out of the shadows as he spoke. Nightpaw swiftly felt a sense of ominous fear rise; whatever the dark brown tabby tom had to say about him would not be good at all.

The Potions mentor went on, "It seems to me that Potter and his friends may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time." He said this with a smirk as if he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious situations here. Why were they in the upstairs passageway at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween banquet?"

So the Golden Trio launched themselves into an explanation about the Death Day party. "So there were hundreds of ghosts. They can tell you we were there."

"But why not join the banquet afterward?" Brokenfang meowed, his dark amber eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that passageway, eh?"

Redpaw and Fawnpaw glanced around at Nightpaw, who frowned at them. It would have to be up to him to properly explain.

"Because...because..." Nightpaw faltered, his heart thumping very fast. Something inside his mind told him it would sound very unbelievable if he told them he had been led there by a demonic voice no one but he could hear. "Because we were really tired and we just wanted to go to bed."

Brokenfang had a look of triumph flickering onto her gaunt face. "Without any supper? I didn't know ghosts provided food fit for live cats at their parties."

"We weren't hungry," Redpaw insisted loudly, but his stomach gave a huge rumble. Nightpaw sighed.

But Brokenfang's smiled widened even more. Then he meowed haughtily, "Silverstar, I must say that Potter is not being completely honest with us. It might be a good idea if some of his certain privileges were withdrawn until he is ready to tell us the truth. I myself feel he should be taken off the LionClan AirBall team until he is ready to be honest."

"Really, Brokenfang?" Thistleheart meowed severely, rounding on the dark brown tabby tom. "That's no reason to stop him from playing AirBall. This ferret wasn't hit over the head with a set of AirBall wings. There is no proof that Potter has done anything wrong at all, so don't try and pull that on us."

Nightpaw gazed at the deputy of the Forest, glad for her confidence. Then he saw that Silverstar was looking over at the young black tomcat with some kind of look in his eye. It felt like a hawk was watching him from the distance in a tree.

Then he finally meowed, "Innocent until proven guilty. He shall receive no punishment for what happened here in the meantime."

Brokenfang looked very furious; so did Oscar, who snarled, "My ferret has been Petrified. I want to see some PUNISHMENT!"

"We will do our best to cure him, Oscar," Silverstar reassured him, laying his tail on the dark brown tom's shoulder. "Sproutflower recently managed to obtain some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full adult size, I will have a special potion made that will resuscitate Mr. Sniffer."

"I'll make the potion," Gloryhound butted in. "I've done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep, being the most amazing cat I am."

"Excuse me, but I'M the Potions expert at this school, last time I checked," Brokenfang meowed coldly. He was still angry about Nightpaw getting away without being punished.

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Silverstar told the Golden Trio.

They went, as quickly as they could without actually sprinting or it would cause lots and lots of misunderstanding. When they were a floor up from Gloryhound's office, they padded into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Nightpaw squinted at his friends' darkened faces and saw that they were as shocked as he was.

Fawnpaw closed the door behind them and explained quickly, "It's strange, isn't it? You hear this voice, a voice only you can hear, and then Mr. Sniffer ends up Petrified? It's just...strange."

Nightpaw felt uncomfortable about this, but he pushed that away, though he agreed with her. "You think I should've told them about that voice in the wall I heard?"

Redpaw stared at him with disbelief. "Are you nuts?"

"No," Fawnpaw meowed without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can is a bad sign. It's bad even in the Warrior World."

"She's right, you know," one picture in the room said, but they ignored it.

Something in Fawnpaw's voice made Nightpaw ask, "Do you two believe me?"

Redpaw nodded quickly. "Yeah, we do! But you gotta admit that it's weird..."

"I know," the Maine Coon mix mewed. "It's all weird. What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Cavern Has Been Opened Once More...' What does that mean?"

"You know, it really reminds me of something I heard before," Redpaw replied slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret cave at the Forest one time. I think it was Birdstorm."

Nightpaw then added, "And what's a rogue?"

To his surprise, Redpaw stifled a chortle, which made Fawnpaw glare at him.

"It's not funny," the light brown tabby she-cat scolded him.

"I know it's not, but it's funny if it's Oscar," Redpaw responded. To Nightpaw, he explained. "A rogue is a cat who was born into a warrior family but doesn't have any magic powers. It's like reverse kittypet-born warriors, but rogues are quite rare. If Oscar's trying to learn magic from a Quick Spell course, I believe he is a rogue. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates us younger cats so much. He's bitter," he added with a satisfied smile.

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Moonhigh. We should go get some sleep," Nightpaw meowed. "Let's go before Brokenfang comes around and frame us for something else."

**...**

For a few days, the cats of the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mr. Sniffer. Oscar kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked as if he thought the attacker might return. Nightpaw had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with some All-Purpose Magic Mess Remover, but it had no effect; the words still shone as brightly as ever like a ruby on the stone.

Leafpaw looked extremely disturbed to hear about Mr. Sniffer's fate. According to Redpaw, she was very interested in pet ferrets.

"But you didn't really get to know him," Redpaw insisted bracingly. "We're actually better off without him." Leafpaw's eyes widened at that, so her brother assured her, "Stuff like this doesn't always happen here. They'll catch the nut that did it and kick his ass out of here in no time. I just hope he'll Petrify Oscar before he gets exiled. I'm just joking!" he added hurriedly as the ginger she-cat gasped.

The attack had also had a strange effect on Fawnpaw. It was quite usual for the Angora mix to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else except twitching her tail tip. Nor could Nightpaw or Redpaw get much response from her when they asked her what she was doing, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

**...**

Nightpaw had been held back in Potions, where Brokenfang held him back to scrape tapeworms off the desks. After a quick lunch, he went upstairs to meet Redpaw and Fawnpaw in the library, and saw Finchpaw Finch-Fletchley, the BadgerClan cat from Herbology, coming toward him. Nightpaw just opened his mouth to say hi when the peach-colored cat saw him, turned around sharply, and fled in the opposite direction.

For a moment, Nightpaw stood there with confusion in his mind. This cat was nice to him during the first day of school, but now he was trying to avoid him. But he decided to try ignoring the Australian Mist and ask his friends about it.

So the black cat went up to the library and found Redpaw at the back, measuring his History of Warriorism homework. Professor Franklin had asked for a three fox-length long article on _"The Feudal Meeting of European Warriors."_

"I can't believe it. I'm still eight mouse-lengths short," Redpaw growled furiously, letting go of his scroll, which rolled right back into a roll. "And Fawnpaw did four fox-lengths seven mouse-lengths and her writing's small."

"Where's she at?" Nightpaw asked as he sat down. He grabbed the tape measure and opened his own homework.

"Over there," Redpaw told him, pointing his tail alongside the shelves. "Bet she's looking for another book. She's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."

Taking advantage of the talk, Nightpaw managed to tell him about Finchpaw running away from him. Redpaw had an uninterested look on his face.

"Don't know why you care. I thought he was a mouse-brain," Redpaw meowed as he wrote away, making his writing as big as possible. "I mean, he was emitting all that garbage about Gloryhound being so great and all..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Fawnpaw appeared from between the bookshelves. She looked quite bad-tempered and at last seemed ready to talk to them.

"I can't believe this! All the copies of _The History of the Forest_ have been taken out," she spat, sitting down next to her male friends. "And there's a half-moon waiting list posted on the door. I knew I shouldn't have left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk because it was full with Gloryhound books."

"Why do you need it?" Nightpaw asked.

"The same reason everyone else does: to read the legend of the Cavern of Secrets."

Nightpaw sat up. "Huh? What's that?"

"That's it. I can't remember," Fawnpaw mewed, frowning. "I can't find the story anyplace else."

"Hey, Fawnpaw. Let me read your essay," Redpaw meowed, frantically looking up at the clock.

Fawnpaw glared at him in a severe way. "No way! You had ten sunrises to finish it!"

Redpaw moaned, "It's just two more mouse-lengths! Come on!"

The bell rang while Fawnpaw and Redpaw led the way to History of Warriorism, arguing.

**...**

History of Warriorism was the slowest subject on their schedule. Professor Franklin, who taught it, was their only ghost mentor (and their non-cat mentor since he was a tortoise), and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Elderly and withered, some cats said he didn't even notice he was dead. He simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in front of the staff room fire; his routine didn't vary at all ever since.

Today was as boring as ever except that Thistleheart had come in to watch. Franklin opened his notes and began to read in a flat hum like an old pig until nearly everyone in the class was in a bottomless torpor, rarely stopping long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Fawnpaw had sat up on her haunches and raised her front paw into the air.

Franklin, glancing up in the midst of a fatal boring lecture on the Worldwide Warrior Resolution of 1309, looked amazed.

"Miss...er...?"

"Granger, sir. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Cavern of Secrets," she mewed in a clear voice.

Cinderpaw, who was sitting with his mouth open and gawking out of the window, jerked out of his daze. Brownpaw Brown's head came up off her front legs and Toadpaw's right front paw slipped off of his desk.

Franklin blinked. "My subject is History of Warriorism," he said in his dry hoarse voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not folklore and legends."

The old gopher tortoise cleared his throat with a small noise and continued, "In September of that year, a small pack of Roman healers..."

But he stumbled to a halt, for Fawnpaw's left front paw was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Franklin was looking at her in such wonder that Nightpaw was sure no apprentice or warrior had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead. It was quite amazing.

Then he said, "Why...yes. One could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Fawnpaw as if he had never seen a student accurately before. "However, the legend which you speak of is such a very dramatic, even ridiculous tale..."

But the whole class was now hanging on Franklin's every word like moss on a rock. He looked diffusely at them all, every face turned to his. Nightpaw could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said gradually. "Let me see...the Cavern of Secrets..."

But it was Thistleheart who meowed, "I think I better say it for now." She cleared her throat and began.

"Well, you all know, of course, that the Forest was founded around the Middle Ages, by the four greatest warrior cats of that time: Lion Gryffindor, Badger Hufflepuff, Raven Ravenclaw, and Viper Slytherin. Three of the creators worked together quite pleasantly. One did not."

"Three guesses who," Redpaw muttered to Nightpaw. Thistleheart looked over at him, but she ignored him and continued.

"Disputes erupted between them. A rift began to grow between Viper and the other cats. Viper wished to be choosier about cats admitted into the Forest. He believed that magic learning should be kept within warrior families. He disliked taking students of kittypet pedigree, believing them to be disloyal. After a while, there was a serious fight on the subject between Viper and Lion, and then Viper left the school."

Thistleheart cleared her throat again and went on. "Steady historical sources tell us this much. But these honest facts have been obscured by the bizarre legend of the Cavern of Secrets. The story goes that Viper had built a hidden cave in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing about. Viper, in the legend, preserved the Cavern of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. This heir alone would be able to open the Cavern of Secrets, unleash the horror from within, and use it to remove all who were unfit to study magic and be a true wild cat."

Fawnpaw's fur bristled. "Kittypet-borns."

"Yes," Thistleheart agreed grimly. After this, she left the room.

There was silence as the mentors finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual sleepy silence that filled Franklin's classes. There was discomfort in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. But Franklin looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is complete nonsense," he said. "The school has been searched for proof of such a cave, many times, by the most learned warrior cats. It does not exist. It is only a tale told to frighten the naïve."

Fawnpaw's right front paw was back in the air. "What do you mean by the 'horror from within' the Cavern?"

The tortoise ghost replied in his dry wheezy voice, "That is believed to be some sort of demon, which the Heir of Viper alone can control."

The class exchanged nervous looks at this while Franklin shuffled his papers and said. "I tell you all that it does not exist. There is no Cavern and no demon."

Sandpaw piped up, "But if the Cavern can only be opened by Viper's heir, no one else would be able to find it, right?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Franklin said in a provoked tone. "If a long line of leaders of the Forest haven't found the thing..."

"But you'd possibly have to use Dark Magic to open it," Daisypaw Patil, a Siamese cat began.

Franklin snapped, "Just because a warrior doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean that he can't, Miss Pennyfeather. I repeat, if cats like Silverstar..."

Cinderpaw began, "But maybe a cat has to be related to Viper, so Silverstar couldn't..."

"That will do!" Franklin said sharply, for he had had enough. "It is a parable! It does not exist! There is no scrap of proof that Viper ever built as much as a secret cage in a small closet! I am sorry I told you such a stupid story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid realistic showable _fact!_"

And in five minutes, the class sank back into its usual stupor.

**...**

"I knew Viper was a twisted old fish-brain," Redpaw told Nightpaw and Fawnpaw as they fought their way through the packed passageways after class to drop off their bags before dinner. "But I never knew he started all this pure-breed stuff. I wouldn't be in his Clan if you gave me extra fresh-kill. In all honesty, if the Sorting Collar tried to put me in ViperClan, I'd get the train back home."

Fawnpaw nodded eagerly, but Nightpaw didn't say anything at all. His belly had just dropped in an unpleasant way.

He never told Redpaw or Fawnpaw that the Sorting Collar had seriously considered putting him in ViperClan. He could remember, as if it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he had placed the collar around his neck a year before: "_You'll be a great warrior, it's all in your head, and ViperClan will be the Clan to help you on your way to your destiny, no doubt about that!"_

But Nightpaw, who already heard of ViperClan's reputation for turning out Dark wizards (from Badgerstripe and Redpaw), had thought hurriedly to not be in ViperClan and the collar said, _"No? Are you still sure? If so, you shall be in...LIONCLAN!"_

As they were shunted along in the mass, Mousepaw Creevey sped past them.

"Hi, Nightpaw!"

"Hey, Mousepaw," Nightpaw sighed right away.

Then Mousepaw began meowing, "Hey, Nightpaw! A cat in my class says that you're..."

But the brown tabby apprentice was so little that he couldn't struggle against the current of cats bearing him toward the Great Hall. They did hear him squeak a quick good-bye to Nightpaw and he was gone.

"What's a cat in his class saying about you?" Fawnpaw questioned.

"That I'm Viper's heir, I guess," Nightpaw meowed.

The Maine Coon/British Shorthair felt his stomach dropping another inch or so as he suddenly remembered the way Finchpaw ran away from him at lunch. Maybe the BadgerClan cat did the right thing by running away from him.

Redpaw snorted with disgust. "Those cats here will believe anything. The mouse-hearts..."

The crowd dispersed and they were able to climb the next staircase without much difficulty. They were still padding over to the common room when they began another conversation.

"Do you really think there's a Cavern of Secrets?" Redpaw asked Fawnpaw.

"Who knows?" she replied, frowning. "Silverstar was unable to cure Mr. Sniffer, and that makes me think that whatever attacked him might not be...a cat."

As she spoke, they turned around a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack happened. They stopped and looked around at it. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no rigid ferret dangling from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the note "The Cavern of Secrets Has Been Opened Once More."

Redpaw muttered, "Oscar must be guarding this spot."

They looked around at each other and around the corridor. It seemed to be deserted.

"I think it's safe to investigate," Nightpaw meowed, crouching low so that he could crawl along, searching for clues. "I found some scorch marks!" he mewed, pointing to the spots. "Here...and there..."

"Look at this!" Fawnpaw called. "This is strange..."

Nightpaw stood up and padded to the window next to the writing. Fawnpaw was pointing with her tail at the top pane, where around twenty ants were scuttling, fighting to get through a small crack. A long silvery thread was dangling like a tail, as if they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.

Fawnpaw gazed down at the ants with wonder. "Did you ever see ants behave like that before?"

"Maybe, but not as rigid as that," Nightpaw replied. "What about you, Redpaw? ...Redpaw?"

He looked over his shoulder and was puzzled. Redpaw was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run. Nightpaw saw fear in his blue eyes as if the ants were eating him inside out. So he flicked his tail towards his American Shorthair friend, allowing him to speak.

"I...don't...like ants," Redpaw gulped edgily.

"Huh. You never told us that," Fawnpaw commented, looking at Redpaw in surprise. "I mean, you've used ants in Potions lots of times."

"The DEAD ones. I don't mind using those," Redpaw replied, who was warily looking anywhere but at the window. "I just hate the way they move."

Fawnpaw giggled.

"It's not funny!" Redpaw hissed. "Just to let you know, when I was three years old, Berrytail turned my...my dragon plush into a great big disgusting ant because I broke his toy set of wings. You wouldn't like them if you were hugging your plush and suddenly it had six legs and..."

But he broke off, trembling. Fawnpaw was obviously still trying hard not to laugh, making him glare at her. Nightpaw now understood his friend's fears, so he decided to change the subject from arachnophobia to the real situation.

So he meowed, "Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone must've wiped it up."

Redpaw was now recovering himself to walk a few paces past Oscar's spot and pointing with his tail. "I think it's around here. Level with this door."

He reached for the bronze handle but suddenly withdrew his paw quickly. He looked as if he just got his feet burned.

"What's wrong?" Nightpaw asked.

"Can't go in there," Redpaw meowed gruffly, stepping back. "She-cats' restroom."

"Redpaw, you big kit, there's not gonna be anyone in there." Fawnpaw had stood up and padded over to the door. "That's Carping Turtleneck's place. Let's look around."

And ignoring the large OUT OF USE sign, she pushed the door wide open and padded into the restroom. Nightpaw and Redpaw exchanged glances with each other before following her inside.

It was the gloomiest and most miserable restroom that Nightpaw had ever set paw in. Under a big, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of fragmented sinks. The floor was waterlogged and it reflected the dull light given off by the remains of a few candles, burning low in their holders. The wooden doors to the stalls were shedding and scratched, and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Fawnpaw looked over her shoulder to wipe her paw across her mouth, a signal to be quiet and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it, she meowed, "Hey, Turtleneck. How's the prey running?"

Redpaw just looked confused as he asked, "So who's Carping Turtleneck again?"

"I'M Carping Turtleneck!"

Nightpaw and Redpaw sauntered cautiously over to look. Carping Turtleneck was floating above the tank of the toilet, scratching her ear for fleas.

"This is a _she-cats'_ restroom," she went on, eyeing Redpaw and Nightpaw with distrust. "_They're_ not she-cats. Why are they here?"

Fawnpaw replied, "Oh, I just wanted to show them how...nice it is in here." To prove it, she waved her tail elusively at the dirty old mirror and the waterlogged floor.

"Ask her if she saw anything," Nightpaw mouthed to his friend.

"What are you whispering?" Turtleneck asked, staring at him.

Nightpaw looked around at the ghost. "Er...nothing. We wanted to ask you..."

But in a voice choked with tears, she wailed, "I do wish everyone stops talking behind my back! I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead!"

"Turtleneck, no one's making fun of you," Fawnpaw tried to explain. "Nightpaw only wanted to know..."

"No one's making fun of me! That's a good one!" Turtleneck bawled; Nightpaw swore that this was one negative ghost, unlike the positive Headlesshead Nick. "My life was nothing but misery and woe at this place! Now everyone comes around trying to ruin my death!"

_Then why did she choose to be a ghost?_

"No, it's not that! We wanted to ask you if you saw anything odd," Fawnpaw protested quickly. "It's because a ferret was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween night."

Nightpaw took the opportunity to ask the ghost, "Did you see anyone around here that night?"

"_I_ wasn't paying attention," Turtleneck sniffed theatrically. "Joker upset me so much I came in here and tried to end it all. But then I remembered that I'm...that I'm..."

"Already dead?" Redpaw put in helpfully.

Turtleneck gave a loud tragic wail, rose up in the air, turned over, and dove head-over-heels into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight. Although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend. Nightpaw and Redpaw stood there with their mouths open.

But Fawnpaw shrugged tiredly and meowed with sarcasm, "That went well. Now let's go."

Nightpaw had just closed the door on Turtleneck's burbling bawling when a loud voice made all three cats jump.

"Redpaw!"

Sandthorn had just stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge shimmering. The curly-furred ginger tom had an expression of complete shock on his face. "That's a she-cats' restroom! What were you...?"

"Looking around." Redpaw shrugged. "For clues, you know."

Sandthorn's fur bristled in a manner that reminded Nightpaw forcefully of Hollywhisker. "Get away from there!" he hissed. He raced toward them and started to bustle them along, lashing his tail around. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back around here while everyone's at supper?"

But Redpaw stopped and glared at his older brother. "Why shouldn't we? I already said that we didn't lay a claw on that ferret!"

"Leafpaw heard the same thing from me," Sandthorn retorted fiercely. "But she's still scared that you're going to be exiled. I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out! You might think of her while all the first years are fully manic by this problem!"

"_You_ don't care about her," Redpaw growled, whose tail tip was twitching. "You're just upset that I'd mess up your chances of being Head Cat! Admit it, Sandthorn! You don't give a shit about Leafpaw!"

"Don't you dare say that!" Sandthorn spat angrily, unsheathing his claws and ruffling his fur up. "I've always been there for Leafpaw when it was either an emergency or if it was convenient! While you and the rest of our siblings would goof off like childish kits, I was there whenever she got sick or had an injury! So don't you dare say I don't care about my sister!"

He pointed with a claw to his prefect badge and meowed tersely, "Now I'm taking five points from LionClan. And I hope it teaches you a lesson to not say horrible things to your family! Now no more private eye work or I'll write to Mother!"

And he stalked away, his tail tip twitching like Redpaw's.

**...**

After that, the Golden Trio chose seats as far as possible from Sandthorn in the common room that night. Redpaw was still very angry and kept tarnishing his Charms homework. When he had reached absently for his tail-wand to remove the stains, it burned the parchment. Seething almost as much as his homework, he slammed "_The Standard Book of Hexes, Grade 2"_ shut. But to Nightpaw's surprise, Fawnpaw did the same thing.

"Thistleheart's worried; everyone's worried. Who can it be?" she mewed in a quiet voice. She sounded as if she was continuing a chat they were just having. "Who in StarClan's name would want to scare all the rogues and kittypet-borns out of the Forest?"

Redpaw looked over at her and replied in a sarcastic puzzled voice, "Let me think. Who do we know who thinks kittypets are filth?"

Fawnpaw looked back, skeptical. "Are you talking about Icepaw?"

"Who else?" Redpaw told her. "You heard him that night. 'You'll be next, kittybloods!' Come on, all you gotta do is look at his vulgar face and know it's him!"

"I heard him. But _him_, the Heir of Viper?" the light brown tabby she-cat asked cynically.

"Well, look at his family," Nightpaw, who closed his books, added. "All of them have been in ViperClan; he's always bragging about it. They could easily be Viper's descendants. His dad's evil enough."

Redpaw spoke up, "They probably had the key to the Cavern of Secrets for eras! They must've been handing it down, father to son."

Fawnpaw looked at them with reluctant acceptance. "That can be possible."

Nightpaw asked her, "How do we do it?"

"There might be a way," Fawnpaw replied slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Sandthorn. "But it'll be difficult. And it'll be risky, very risky. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules..."

"If, in a moon or so, you feel like talking, will you tell us?" the American Shorthair growled irritably.

Fawnpaw glared coldly at him. "Fine. We need to get inside the ViperClan common room and ask Icepaw a few questions without him realizing it's us."

Redpaw began laughing while Nightpaw mewed, "What? But that's impossible!"

"Not really," Fawnpaw responded. "We just need some Polyjuice Potion." They gave her a blank look and she sighed, "Brokenfang mentioned it a few quarter-moons ago."

"You honestly think we got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to him?" Redpaw droned.

Fawnpaw explained, "It changes you into another cat. Just think about it! We could transform into three of the ViperClan cats. No one will know it was us. Icepaw would tell us anything. He might be boasting about it in the ViperClan common room right now. But if only we could hear him."

But Redpaw frowned. "This sound suspicious to me. What if we were stuck looking like three of the ViperClan cats forever?"

"It wears off until an hour," Fawnpaw meowed, waving her front paw edgily. "But getting hold of the formula will be very hard. Brokenfang said it was in a book called Most Potent Potions and it'll be in the Restricted Section of the library."

The three cats exchanged glances again. There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You have to get a signed note of permission from a mentor. Only then would the librarian let a cat into the Restricted Section and let them pick a book out.

Redpaw frowned again. "It's hard to see why we need the book if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

Fawnpaw scratched her ear with her hind leg as she replied, "If we make it sound as if we were just interested in the idea, we'll stand a chance."

"It could work," Nightpaw spoke up.

"Oh, come on, Fawnpaw. No mentor is gonna fall for that," Redpaw retorted. "They'd have to be really stupid..."

_To be continued..._

**...**

**Katara: I'm amazed that we finished this in around two days already. Usually, it'd take around a few days or weeks.**

**AvatarCat11: You know me, Katara. I just do it for the readers' enjoyment.**

**Holly: I think we should continue some other stories really soon; that way, more reviews can come around.**

**AvatarCat11: Good idea right there! Now whose turn is it to say the review thing?**

**Katara: It's my turn now. (Politely goes in front of him and turns to the readers) I hope that someone presses that review button really soon. That way, you can get some plush dolls of Nightpaw and his friends, or you can be the next person to say the disclaimer for the next chapter.**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: See ya next time!**


	10. The Runaway Budger

**AvatarCat11: I got some good news and no other bad news. The good news is that my sister and her "girlfriend" are breaking up! Thank God!**

**Katara: But I thought you'd accept any relationship the way it is?**

**AvatarCat11: Well, let's just say that things weren't looking so good for them. And she's gonna move back in with us, not getting an apartment with her ex-boyfriend. But he's changed over the few months or so now that he's on probation.**

**Holly: At least he's changed at last; that's the important thing. (AvatarCat11 and Katara nod in agreement) Plus, we saw this review on this story saying something like "not very good" and "sorry."**

**AvatarCat11: Well, I'll just ask that person one tiny question: "What do you find on this story that's not good?" That's all; nothing else. Well, that's enough of that. Let's just get on with the disclaimer, the updating date, and the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter own all rights to Harry Potter and Warrior Cats. I'M mixing them together for the enjoyment for other people. And that means that I don't, and never will, own Harry Potter or Warrior Cats.**

**Updating Date: September 21, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Runaway Budger_

Ever since the terrible incident of the satyrs, Gloryhound hadn't brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read pieces from his books to them, and sometimes redid some of the more dramatic stuff. He usually picked an unwilling Nightpaw to help him with these; so far, Nightpaw had to play a Pennsylvanian villager whom Gloryhound had cured of a Chatting Curse, a Sasquatch with a head cold, and a cobra that couldn't eat anything except cabbage ever since Gloryhound dealt with him.

Nightpaw was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, this time acting as a werecat. If the young black cat had no reason for keeping this cat in a good mood, he would have refused to do it.

"Give 'em a nice loud howl, Nightpaw...exactly! And then, if you'll believe it, I pounced...like this...banged him to the floor! Thus with one paw, I managed to pin him down; with my other, I put my tail-wand to his throat. I screwed up my remaining strength and performed the complex Homorphus Charm. He let out a pitiful moan...go on, Nightpaw, higher than that...good...the coarse fur vanished, the huge fangs shrank, and he turned back into a cat. Simple yet effective, and another town will remember me forever as the heroic savior who delivered them from the terrible moon of werecat attacks."

Nightpaw sighed at this, for he couldn't remember another cat who thought he or she was better than other cats. But he was relieved when the bell rang and Gloryhound got to his paws.

"Homework for tonight: create a poem about my victory over the Wagga Wagga Werecat! Signed copies of Very Important Me are the rewards to the author of the best one!"

The class began to leave. Quickly, Nightpaw returned to the back of the room, where Redpaw and Fawnpaw were waiting for him.

"You ready?" Nightpaw muttered.

"Wait till everyone's gone," Fawnpaw mewed nervously. "All right..."

The light brown tabby she-cat approached the front desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her jaws. Nightpaw and Redpaw were right behind her.

Fawnpaw then spluttered, "Um...Gl-Gloryhound, sir? I wanted to...get this here book out of the library. Just for background reading." She set the note on the desk, her front paws shaking a tad bit. "But since it's in the Restricted Section of the library, I need a mentor to sign for it. I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gallivanting with Guars about slow-acting toxins."

"Ah, Gallivanting with Guars!" Gloryhound meowed, taking the note from Fawnpaw and smiling widely at her. "Perhaps my very favorite book. You enjoyed it, I presume?"

Nightpaw looked over at Gloryhound and sighed. The cream-furred Cornish Rex was signing the note without even looking at what book they wanted.

"Yes, sir," Fawnpaw agreed eagerly. "I liked the part when you trapped that last guar with the magical plow."

Gloryhound pulled out a large peacock quill and purred, "Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best apprentice of the year a little extra help." Misreading, and too stupid to see, the disgusted look on Redpaw's face, he meowed, "Yes, nice, isn't it? I usually save it for book-signings."

He scrawled an enormous absurd signature on the note and handed it back to Fawnpaw. Then, while Nightpaw sighed at seeing this cat sign the note while not looking at it, he groaned when Gloryhound turned about to face him.

"So Nightpaw," the Cornish Rex meowed as Fawnpaw quickly folded the note with trembling paws and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first AirBall match of the season, I believe? LionClan against ViperClan, eh? I hear you're an expedient player. I was a Seeker, too; I was asked to try for the Alaskan Squad, but I preferred to dedicate my life to the purge of the Dark Forces. Still, if you ever feel the need for a little private training, you know where to find me. I'm always happy to pass on my superior skill to less able players."

Nightpaw made an inaudible noise in his throat and then hurried off after his friends. Not only was Gloryhound a hypocrite, but he also seemed to be quite a liar. He didn't have the shape of an AirBall-playing cat.

"I don't believe it," he hissed as the three of them inspected the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a stupid mouse-brain," Redpaw snorted. "But who cares? We got what we needed!"

"He is NOT a stupid mouse-brain!" Fawnpaw squeaked shrilly as they ran toward the library.

Redpaw rolled his eyes. "Look, just because he said you were the best apprentice of the year doesn't mean..."

They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled quietness of the library. Madam Dustcloud Pince, the librarian, was a thin irritable brown she-cat who looked rather like a frail wolverine.

"Most Potent Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Fawnpaw. But the light brown tabby Angora mix wouldn't let go.

"I want to keep it, actually," she mewed breathlessly through a mouthful of note.

"Oh, come on," Redpaw sighed, pulling the note out of her jaws and handing it over to Madam Dustcloud. "I'm sure Gloryhound will give you another. That idiot will sign anything as long as it's in front of him for long enough."

The librarian held the note up to the light, as if she was determined to spot a fake, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Fawnpaw put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.

**...**

Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Carping Turtleneck's unusable bathroom once again. Fawnpaw had overridden Redpaw's protests by pointing out that it was the last place any other cat in their right minds would go, so they were sure to get some solitude. Carping Turtleneck was wailing noisily as usual in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

Fawnpaw opened the Most Potent Potions book judiciously, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too frightening to think about, and there were some very nasty pictures, which included a black cat that seemed to have been turned inside out and a dark gray cat sprouting several extra pairs of paws out of her head like antlers.

"Here we go," Fawnpaw enthused excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of cats halfway through changing into other cats. Nightpaw openly hoped the illustrator had imagined the looks of powerful pain on their faces.

As they scanned the recipe, Fawnpaw commented, "This is the most complex potion I've ever seen. Lacewing flies, leeches, flux weed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her paw down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough: They're in the student store-cupboard, so we can help ourselves. Hey, check this out! Powdered horn of a unicorn...who knows where we'll get that? Shredded skin of a mamba...that'll be difficult, and of course a bit of the cat we want to change into."

"What?" Redpaw growled sharply. "What do you mean, a bit of the cat we're changing into? I am drinking nothing with Lobsterpaw's earwax in it." But Fawnpaw continued as if she didn't hear him.

"Don't worry about that yet. We'll add those bits last."

Redpaw turned, speechless, to Nightpaw, who had another worrying thing on his mind.

"Fawnpaw, do you have any idea about how much we're going to have to steal? Shredded skin of a mamba? That is NOT in the apprentices' cupboard. What'll we do, break into Brokenfang's private stores? This might not be a good idea."

This made Fawnpaw shut the book with a snap.

"Well, if you two are going to wimp out, be my guest," she growled, bright red patches on her cheeks and her amber eyes lighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know, but I think menacing kittypet-borns is far worse than making a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Icepaw, I'll go straight to the library now, hand the book back in, and we'll forget the whole thing. Of course we'd be breaking fifty school rules by doing this, but we have to try."

Redpaw gaped at her with awe. "Wow. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd tell us to break some rules. You know what? Count us in. But don't make us get any earwax. Okay?"

"So how long will it take to make?" Nightpaw asked Fawnpaw, who looked relieved as she opened the book again.

She read, "Well, since the flux weed has to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days. I'd say it'll be ready in around a moon, if we get all the ingredients."

"A moon?" Redpaw gasped in horror. "Icepaw would've attacked half the kittypet-borns in the school by then!" But Fawnpaw's amber eyes narrowed seriously again, so he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got so far. So full steam ahead, I guess."

However, while Fawnpaw was checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the bathroom, Redpaw muttered to Nightpaw, "It'll be a lot less trouble if you just knock Icepaw off his set of wings tomorrow."

**...**

Nightpaw woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the approaching AirBall match. He was very worried, not only at the thought of what Treebranch would say if LionClan lost, but also at the idea of facing a team attached to the fastest racing wings gold could buy. He had never wanted to beat ViperClan so badly.

After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got up, groomed himself, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the LionClan team huddled together at the long empty table. They were all looking anxious and not speaking much.

As eleven a.m. approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the AirBall stadium. It was a clammy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air while the sun shone a little bit through the clouds. Redpaw and Fawnpaw came hurrying over to wish their friend good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet LionClan robes, and then they sat down to listen to Treebranch's usual pre-match speech.

Then Treebranch began, "ViperClan has better wings than us, no point in denying it. But we've got better cats on wings. We've trained harder than they've done, we've flown through all kinds of weather..."

"True shit," Cherrynose muttered. "I haven't been properly dry since August."

"...and we're going to make them regret letting that little pile of fox-dung named Icepaw Malfoy buy his way onto their team!"

Chest heaving with emotion, Treebranch turned to Nightpaw while the team cheered. "It's up to you, Nightpaw, to show them that a Seeker can have something more than a rich father. You either get to that Pinch before Icepaw or die trying, because we've got to win today. We just have to."

"No pressure, Nightpaw," Berrytail meowed, winking at him.

As they prowled out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them. There were mostly cheers, because RavenClan and BadgerClan were anxious to see ViperClan beaten, but the ViperClan cats in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard too. Madam Clearwing Hooch, the gray tabby AirBall mentor, asked Treebranch and Flintclaw to bow in respect to each other, which they did, giving each other hostile glares and unsheathing their claws until they were fully extended.

"On my whistle," Clearwing announced of them to hear. "Three...two...one..."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the partly sunny sky. Nightpaw flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Pinch, for he remembered that the only job the Seeker had was to search for the Golden Pinch and win their team the match.

"How you doing, Scar Head?" Icepaw jeered, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his wings.

Nightpaw was about to give a retort, but he had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Budger came pelting toward him. He avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his head fur as it passed.

"Close one, Nightpaw!" Cherrynose called.

The ginger tom was streaking past him with his club in his jaws, ready to knock the Budger back toward a ViperClan cat. Nightpaw saw him give the Budger a powerful whack in the direction of Adderjaw Pucey, but the Budger suddenly changed direction in mid-flight and shot straight for Nightpaw again.

The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix dropped quickly to avoid it, and Cherrynose managed to hit it hard toward Icepaw. Once again, the Budger swerved about like a boomerang and shot at Nightpaw's head. Quickly, he put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Budger whistling along behind him.

What was going on? Budgers never concentrated on one player like this before. It was their job to try and overthrow as many cats as possible.

Berrytail was waiting for the Budger at the other end. Nightpaw ducked as the ginger American Shorthair swung at the Budger with all his might; the Budger was swiftly knocked off course. Berrytail cheered for victory, but this also became foiled. As if it was magnetically attracted to Nightpaw, the Budger pelted after him yet again and Nightpaw was forced to fly off at full speed.

Down in the stands, Badgerstripe, who joined up with Redpaw and Fawnpaw, shouted, "Great StarClan! Nightpaw's got himself a runaway Budger! That's been tempered with, that has!"

Then Redpaw leaped onto the railing of the stands and pointed his tail-wand at the Budger. "I'll stop that mad thing."

"No!" Fawnpaw hissed, pulling him back. "It'll be risky even with a proper tail-wand. You could hit Nightpaw."

Redpaw muttered something else, but he did sit down eventually.

It had started to rain. Nightpaw felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his head fur and making it heavy. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Quicktongue Jordan, who was commentating, "ViperClan lead, sixty points to zero."

The ViperClan cats' superior wings were obviously doing their jobs (Blizzardclaw was smirking in the audience), and the crazy Budger was doing all it could to knock Nightpaw out of the air. The Weasley twins were now flying so close to him on either side that he couldn't see anything at all except their flailing clubs. He seemed to have no chance to look for the Pinch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's...tampered with...this Budger!" Berrytail grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Nightpaw.

"We need time out. Now," Cherrynose panted, trying to signal to Treebranch and stop the Budger from crushing Nightpaw's face at the same time.

The large Norwegian Forest Cat had obviously got the message. Clearwing's whistle rang out, and the three cats dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the crazy Budger.

When the LionClan team landed and gathered together while the ViperClan team jeered at them, Treebranch growled, "What's going on? We're being beaten! You two, where were you when that Budger stopped Shadefeather from scoring?"

"We were up twenty fox-lengths above her, stopping the other Budger from killing Nightpaw, Treebranch," Cherrynose retorted angrily. "Someone's fixed it. It won't leave him alone, no matter how many times we whack it away. It didn't go for anyone else all game. The ViperClan cats must've done something to it."

"But the Budgers were protected in Clearwing's office since our last practice, and there wasn't anything wrong with them..." Treebranch meowed anxiously while Clearwing was approaching them. Over her shoulder, Nightpaw could see the ViperClan team jeering and pointing their tails in his team's direction.

"Look," he mewed as she came nearer and nearer. "With you two flying around me all the time, the only way I'm going to catch the Pinch is if it flies up my nose. Get back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be stupid," Berrytail insisted. "It'll take your head off."

Treebranch was looking from Nightpaw to the Weasley twins.

"This is crazy!" Snowfall Spinnet meowed angrily. "You can't let Nightpaw deal with that thing on his own! Let's just call it a game for now!"

Nightpaw hissed, "No! If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match! And we're not losing to ViperClan just because of a crazy Budger! Come on, Treebranch! Tell them to leave me alone!"

Cherrynose turned to Treebranch and spat, "This is all your fault! 'You either get the Pinch or die trying!' What a stupid thing to tell him!"

But already, Clearwing had joined them. "Ready to resume play?" she asked Treebranch.

The LionClan Keeper looked at the determined look on Nightpaw's face and nodded. "All right. Fine then. Berrytail and Cherrynose, you heard him. Leave him alone and let him deal with the Budger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now as the LionClan cats got back into the game. On the sound of Clearwing's whistle, Nightpaw lifted himself into the air and heard the whoosh of the Budger behind him. Higher and higher Nightpaw climbed into the sky; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled about. Slightly dizzy, he still kept his eyes wide open as rain speckled his face and ran up his nostrils as he flew upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Budger.

Nightpaw could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he looked very stupid, but the Budger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Nightpaw could. He began some kind of snake-like twist around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the LionClan goal posts. There, Adderjaw Pucey was trying to get past Treebranch.

A whistling in Nightpaw's ear told him the Budger had just missed him again. He turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"You training for the ballet, Potter?" Icepaw sneered as Nightpaw was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Budger.

So he fled, the Budger trailing a few feet behind him. And then, glaring back at Icepaw in hatred, he saw it: the Golden Pinch. It was hovering inches above the British Shorthair's left ear, and Icepaw, who was too busy laughing at Nightpaw, hadn't seen it.

For one agonizing moment, Nightpaw stayed in midair, not daring to speed toward Icepaw in case he looked up and saw the Pinch.

CRACK!

He had stayed still a second too long and too late. The Budger had hit him at last, smashed into his right front leg, and Nightpaw felt his leg break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his leg, he slid sideways with his waterlogged wings, his tail waving feebly and his right front leg limp at his side. The Budger came back for a second attack, this time going for his face. But Nightpaw turned sharply out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Icepaw.

Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear. Icepaw was thinking that Nightpaw was attacking him.

""HUH?" he gasped, bowling out of Nightpaw's way before following him into the stands.

The two Seekers had dived into the stands and were scrabbling against each other to try and get to the Pinch. Suddenly, Icepaw tripped when he tried to get out of the Budger's way before he fell through the curtains leading to the stadium. Now there wasn't much left competition to get to the Pinch...except the Budger, of course.

Nightpaw reached his muzzled outward, starting doing his signature spinning move, and made a wild snatch. He felt his fangs close on the cold golden Pinch, but he was now only focusing on getting it and not steadying his wings. There was a yowl from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud, he hit the mud and felt his wings free themselves off of his back. His right front leg was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and yowling. He focused on the Pinch held in his jaws while Quicktongue was happily shouting out the results of the match.

"Yes," he mewed vaguely. "We won."

But suddenly, the Budger was back as it still tried to get at him while Nightpaw scrambled from left to right, trying to avoid it. It was only until Fawnpaw launched a spell at it and destroyed it did Nightpaw sigh with relief.

And he fainted.

Nightpaw finally woke up, rain falling on his face, as he was still lying on the field with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth through the new golden sunshine.

"Oh, no. Not you," he moaned.

"Oh, he doesn't know what he's saying!" Gloryhound called deafeningly to the fretful crowd of LionClan cats pressing around them. "Not to worry, Nightpaw! I'm fixing to fix your leg!"

Nightpaw scooted away from him. "No! I'll keep it like this, thanks!" Then he tried to sit up, but the pain was too terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby. "Mousepaw, get that camera out of here! I don't want a picture of this!"

Gloryhound, meanwhile, was telling him soothingly, "Lie back now. It's a simple charm I've used countless times."

"Why can't I just go to the medicine cat den?" Nightpaw hissed through clenched teeth.

"He should really, sir," Treebranch meowed. His light brown pelt drenched with darker brown mud, he couldn't help but grin even though his Seeker was injured. "By the way, Nightpaw, that was one really great capture! It was perhaps your best yet, I'd say!"

Through the forest of legs around him, Nightpaw could see Berrytail and Cherrynose wrestling the other Budgers into a box. They were still putting up a terrific fight, though not as much as the rogue Budger.

"Stand back," Gloryhound was saying as he laid his tail on Nightpaw's leg.

"No! Don't!" the young black cat rasped weakly, but Gloryhound was twirling his tail-wand and, a second later, had directed it straight at Nightpaw's right front leg.

A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Nightpaw's shoulder and spread all the way down to his claws. It felt as if his leg was poisoned and being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening; he shut his eyes, his face turned away from his leg, but his worst fears were realized as the cats above him gasped and Mousepaw began clicking away madly.

His leg finally didn't hurt anymore...nor did it feel at all like a leg.

_What the hell did he do to me?_

Gloryhound looked from side to side in a shifty way before calling, "Ah... Well, that can sometimes happen. Um, but...the point is, uh, you can no longer feel any pain. And, very clearly, the bones are not broken."

"Broken?" Badgerstripe roared at him. "You stupid frog-brain, there's no bones left!"

"Much more flexible, though," Gloryhound added. "That's the important thing. So Nightpaw, just walk up to the medicine cat den. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, would you escort him? And Poppyleaf can...er...tidy you up a bit."

As the Cornish Rex slipped through the crowd, Redpaw muttered, "Yeah, sure. He's just telling us to do what WE suggested in the first place. Stupid retard."

As Nightpaw got to his other three paws, he felt oddly crooked. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again: Poking out of the end of his AirBall cape was what looked like a thick black-furred chew toy. He tried to move his claws, but nothing happened.

Gloryhound didn't fix his bones. He removed them.

**...**

Poppyleaf Pomfrey wasn't about it pleased at all. "You should've come straight to me!" the tortoiseshell she-cat raged, holding up the sad limp remains of what had been a working leg. "I can fix bones in a second, but growing them back..."

"You will be able to, right?" Nightpaw pleaded sadly.

"Well, of course I'll be able to, but it will be painful," Poppyleaf admitted grimly, throwing the young black tom an extra blanket. "You'll have to stay the night for this kind of recovery."

Fawnpaw patiently waited outside the curtain drawn around Nightpaw's nest while Redpaw helped him get wrapped in his blanket. It took a while to stuff the rubbery boneless leg into a warm place.

"How could you stick up for him, Fawnpaw?" Redpaw called through the curtain as he pushed Nightpaw's limp claws into his paw. "If Nightpaw wanted deboning, he would've asked."

"Every cat makes mistakes sometimes," Fawnpaw defended him while Redpaw snorted. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Nightpaw?"

Nightpaw clumsily leaped into the nest and growled, "No. But it doesn't do anything else either." As he swung himself around as he circled around in the nest, his right front leg flapped around uselessly.

But he didn't say anything else because Fawnpaw and Poppyleaf had come around the curtain to see him. The tortoiseshell medicine cat was holding a large bottle of something labeled Bone-Gro. Nightpaw remembered taking some medicine when he was sick or when he went to the vet for a yearly checkup. Any kind of medicine was gross, but it was vital for a cat's health.

"You're in for a rough night, Potter," Poppyleaf meowed, pouring out a steaming cupful and handing it to him. "Re-growing bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Bone-Gro. It burned Nightpaw's mouth and throat like peppers as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still ranting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Poppyleaf retreated, leaving Redpaw and Fawnpaw to help Nightpaw lap up some water. They had heard her sigh before she left, "What'd you expect? Grape juice?"

Redpaw turned towards Nightpaw with a grin across his face. "We won, though. That was some catch you made. You should've seen Icepaw's face. He looked ready to kill something...if he wasn't lying here now in the medicine den."

But Fawnpaw growled darkly, "What I'd like to know is how he fixed that Budger."

"We'll add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we take the Polyjuice Potion," their friend added, sinking back onto the pillows. "Hope it tastes better than this stuff."

"If it's got bits of ViperClan cat in it? No way," Redpaw rasped, making a face at that.

The door of the medicine cat den had burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the LionClan AirBall team had arrived to see their injured Seeker.

"Great flying, Nightpaw," Cherrynose praised him. "I've just seen Flintclaw shouting at Icepaw while he was still injured. I think it had something to do with having the Pinch on his head and not noticing. Icepaw didn't look too happy."

They had brought cupcakes, sweets, and bottles of grape juice; they gathered around Nightpaw's nest and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Poppyleaf came blustering over, shouting, "This young one needs rest. He's got several bones to regrow! Now out! OUT!"

Now Nightpaw was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp leg.

**...**

Hours later, Nightpaw woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. His leg now felt full of large splinters and it hurt, but he was still able to raise his head up and look around weakly. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him.

Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark. He adjusted his ears just in time to hear a small cheery "Hello!" and he leaped backwards.

"Get off!" he hissed loudly, and then, "Bobby?"

The winged lemur's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Nightpaw through the darkness. He wasn't smiling like he was a few seconds ago, and a single tear was running down his short brown face.

"Nightpaw Potter had returned to the Forest," he whispered. "Bobby warned and warned him, but he wouldn't listen. Ah sir, why didn't you listen to Bobby? Why didn't Nightpaw Potter go home when he missed the train?"

Nightpaw heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Bobby's sponge away. "Bobby, what in StarClan's name are you doing here? And how'd you know I missed the train?"

Bobby cringed tightly, and Nightpaw had a sudden suspicion.

"It was you!" he rasped. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"

The winged lemur nodded, his large ears flapping. "Yes, sir, indeed. Bobby hid and watched for Nightpaw Potter and sealed the entryway. And Bobby had to iron his hands afterward." He showed Nightpaw ten long bandaged fingers. "But Bobby didn't care, sir, for he was sure that Nightpaw Potter was safe, and never did Bobby dream that he would get to school another way!" By then, he was rocking backward and forward, shaking his head.

"Bobby was so shocked when he heard Nightpaw Potter returned to the Forest. He was so shocked that he let his master's dinner burn! Such a beating Bobby never had, sir..."

Nightpaw slumped back onto his pillows, feeling tired yet angry at the lemur. If it wasn't for him, he and Redpaw wouldn't have gotten into trouble. And if it wasn't for him, then they wouldn't have crashed into the Rampaging Rowan.

"You nearly got Redpaw and I exiled," he snarled fiercely. "You'd better get out of here before my bones come back, Bobby, or I might claw you to pieces!"

Bobby smiled weakly at him. "Bobby is used to death threats, sir. Bobby gets them five times a sunrise at home."

Then he blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore on his body. He was looking so pathetic that Nightpaw felt his anger retreat despite what happened before.

"Why do you wear that?" the young black tom asked curiously.

"This, sir?" Bobby squeaked, plucking at the pillowcase. "Why, 'tis a mark of the house-lemur's enslavement, sir. Bobby can only be freed if his masters present him with Twoleg clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Bobby even a sweater, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

The young lemur wiped his large green eyes and said suddenly, "Nightpaw Potter must go home! Bobby thought his Budger would be enough to make..."

Hearing this, Nightpaw felt his anger flare up once again. "_Your_ Budger? What do you mean, _your_ Budger?" Trying hard not to get distracted by Bobby's enslavement, he hissed, "Well, why did you make that Budger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, sir! Never kill you!" Bobby squealed, looking shocked. "Bobby just wants to save Nightpaw Potter's life! Better sent home, mortally bruised, than remain here sir! Bobby just wanted Nightpaw Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Is that all?" Nightpaw spat angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

Bobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "Oh, if Nightpaw Potter only knew! If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we sediments of the warrior cat world! Bobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We lemurs were treated like rats, sir! Of course, Bobby is still treated like that, sir," he confessed, drying his face on the pillowcase.

"But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named. Nightpaw Potter survived, and the Dark Bear's power was broken. It was a new dawn, sir, and Nightpaw Potter shone like a fire of hope for those of us who thought that the dark days would never end, sir." He leaped onto the nightstand and rasped, "Listen! Terrible things are happening at the Forest, but they are perhaps happening already, and Bobby cannot let Nightpaw Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Cavern of Secrets is open once again!"

Bobby froze, petrified, then grabbed Nightpaw's drinking cup from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Bobby... Very bad Bobby..."

Nightpaw sat up, wanting to hear more. "So there IS a Cavern of Secrets? And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Bobby!" Then he seized the lemur's skinny wrist with his other front paw as Bobby's hand inched toward the cup. "I'm not kittypet-born; I'm a warrior. How can I be in danger from the Cavern?"

"Ask no more, sir, ask no more of poor Bobby," the winged lemur whimpered, his green eyes huge in the dark. "Dark acts are planned in this place, but Nightpaw Potter should not be here when they happen! Go home, sir! Go home! Nightpaw Potter must not meddle in this, sir! 'Tis too dangerous!"

"Who is it?" Nightpaw asked, keeping a secure hold on Bobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the cup again. "Who opened it? Who opened it last time?"

The lemur squealed, "Bobby can't, sir! Bobby can't! Bobby mustn't tell anything! Go home, sir! Go home!"

But Nightpaw growled, "I'm not going anywhere! One of my best friends is kittypet-born! She'll be first in line if the Cavern really has been opened! I won't leave any friend who needs my help!"

"Nightpaw Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Bobby in a kind of unhappy frenzy. "So gallant! So heroic! But he must save himself, he must! Nightpaw Potter must not..."

"Just tell me what..."

Bobby suddenly froze, his bat-like ears quivering. Nightpaw heard it, too; there were pawsteps coming down the corridor outside. There was a loud crack, and Nightpaw's clenched paw was suddenly clamped on thin air. He curled up into a ball again under the covers, his green eyes on the dark doorway to the den as the pawsteps drew nearer.

Next moment, Silverstar himself was backing into the hall, wearing a long woolly dressing gown over his fur and a sleeping cap on his head. He was carrying in his jaws one end of what looked like a statue. Thistleheart appeared a second later, carrying its tail. Together, they heaved it onto a nest.

"Get Poppyleaf. Hurry," Silverstar murmured to Thistleheart, and the Oriental Shorthair hurried past the end of Nightpaw's nest out of sight.

Nightpaw curled up some more and laid quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Thistleheart dashed back into view, closely followed by Poppyleaf, who was shaking her head to get the sleepiness out. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and he felt his own fur bristle with dread.

"What happened?" the medicine cat whispered to Silverstar, bending over the statue.

The silver tabby Persian sighed, "Another attack. Thistleheart found him on the stairs."

"There was a dead chaffinch next to him," Thistleheart added. "We think he was trying to sneak over here to visit Potter."

Nightpaw's belly gave a horrible lurch of shock and dismay. Slowly and carefully, he raised his head slightly out of the covers a few inches so he could look at the brown statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face, and he gasped.

It was Mousepaw Creevey. His brown eyes were wide and his front paws were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.

Poppyleaf gasped with terror. "Petrified?"

Thistleheart nodded. "But I shudder to think... If Silverstar wasn't on his way downstairs for a cap of hot chocolate...who knows what might have..."

The three older warrior cats stared down at Mousepaw. Then Silverstar leaned forward and very gently wrenched the camera out of Mousepaw's stiff grasp with his jaws.

"Do you think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" Thistleheart meowed to him eagerly.

But Silverstar didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera, and what happened next made Poppyleaf gasp. The astonishing thing was that a spurt of steam had hissed out of the camera. Nightpaw, who was three nests away, caught the pungent smell of scorched plastic.

"Melted," Poppyleaf remarked wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean?" Thistleheart asked urgently.

Silverstar closed his eyes, nodded a little, and opened them again, their sapphire gaze reflecting the moonlight. "It means that the Cavern of Secrets is indeed open again."

Poppyleaf's tail lashed about frantically.

Thistleheart looked away from her and stared at her leader. "But, Silverstar, who is it? _Who_?"

"The question is not _who_," Silverstar replied, his blue eyes resting on Mousepaw. "The question is, _how..._"

And from the expression Nightpaw could see on the pale tabby deputy's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Hopefully this will be a good chapter like the others. So for those who say "Not very good. Sorry," at least I tried my best. I hope it gets better for you. Nothing more to be said.**

**Holly: We like it, AvatarCat. We really do!**

**AvatarCat11: Thanks, you two! Plus, on Monday, I tried calling my ex-girlfriend after three months of not talking to her, and she finally called first!**

**Katara: That's awesome, AvatarCat! Why'd she not talk to you for three months?**

**AvatarCat11: She was busy at her first job at Cabela's. **

**Katara: (Looking confused) Cabela's?**

**AvatarCat11: Yeah, it's an outdoor place. (To the readers) Anyone who reviews will be given either a Pikachu plush with the Cabela's outfit or a Pikachu with a pumpkin costume on it.**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: See ya next time!**


	11. The Fighting Guild

**AvatarCat11: Halloween is just around the corner, but I bet I won't go trick-or-treating again this year.**

**Katara: Why not? How many years have you missed?**

**AvatarCat11: If I don't go this year, it'll be three. The first time was because I decided to not go, and the second is that my mom said I was too old.**

**Holly: I know we might be getting a little too old for trick-or-treating, but it wouldn't hurt to do it again a few more times. Either that or just get a sack of candy and watch a scary movie on Halloween.**

**Katara: And don't forget to brush your teeth.**

**AvatarCat11: (Rolls his eyes playfully) I know, I know. I'll keep that in mind. So who'd like to say the disclaimer this time?**

**Holly: How about Katara say it? Besides, there's the Avatar comics and The Promise part 1 coming out, after all.**

**Katara: (Smiles at them both) Sure!**

**Disclaimer: If AvatarCat11 owns Harry Potter or Warrior Cats, then he would own us from Avatar: The Last AirBender. Fortunately, he doesn't and doesn't want to.**

**Updating Date: October 28, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Fighting Guild_

Nightpaw woke up on Sunday morning to find the medicine den blazing with winter sunlight and his front leg re-boned but very stiff. He sat up quickly and looked over at Mousepaw's nest, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Nightpaw was behind yesterday. Seeing that he was awake, Poppyleaf came hurrying over with a freshly-killed hare and began bending and stretching his front leg and paw.

"All in order," she mewed as he clumsily leaned over to take a bite out of the hare. "You can leave as soon as you're finished."

Nightpaw nodded, so he groomed himself quickly and hurried off to the LionClan Tower, desperate to tell Redpaw and Fawnpaw about Mousepaw and Bobby, but they weren't there. The young black tom left to look for them, wondering where they went to and feeling a little upset that they weren't concerned if he had his bones back or not.

But he shook his head, dismissing that thought from his head. There was no way they wouldn't be concerned for him; the Golden Trio were friends through and through. He wouldn't give up finding them.

As Nightpaw passed the library, Sandthorn trotted out of it, looking in far better spirits than the last encounter they had. He seemed happy about something, all right.

"Hello, Nightpaw," the curly-furred tomcat greeted him. "Good flying you did the other day, really good. LionClan is now the lead for the Clan Trophy. You've earned us one hundred and fifty points!"

Purring at this, Nightpaw remembered what he had to do. "Hey, have you seen Redpaw or Fawnpaw anywhere?"

Sandthorn replied, his smile faltering, "Actually, I haven't. I just hope Redpaw isn't in another she-cat's restroom."

Nightpaw let out a forced laugh, watched Sandthorn prowl out of sight, and then headed straight for Carping Turtleneck's lavatory. He couldn't see why Redpaw or Fawnpaw would be in there again, but after making sure that neither Oscar nor any prefects were around, he pushed the door open and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.

"It's me," he called out, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and he saw one of Fawnpaw's orange eyes peer through the keyhole.

"Hey, Nightpaw!" she greeted him. "You scared us there! How's your leg?"

Squeezing into the stall and ignoring its tightness, he replied, "Better. At least it hadn't been shot off by a death-stick."

An old pot was perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the brim told Nightpaw they had lit a fire underneath it. Summoning up movable water-resistant fires was a specialty of Fawnpaw's.

"We would've come to meet you, but we decided to go ahead and get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Redpaw explained as Nightpaw, with difficulty, locked the stall again. "We decided this is the safest place to hide it."

"I understand," Nightpaw replied, feeling better that his friends tried to visit him. But speaking of that... "Hey, Mousepaw is in the medicine den now. He got Petrified."

Fawnpaw held up one paw and interrupted him, "We know. We heard Thistleheart telling Shortlegs this morning. That's why we decided to get it over with."

"The sooner we get a confession out of Icepaw, the better," Redpaw snarled. "You know what I'm thinking? I bet he was in such a foul mood after the AirBall match that he took it out on Mousepaw."

Watching Fawnpaw tear bundles of knotgrass with her claws and throw them into the potion, Nightpaw meowed, "There's something else I'd like to say. Bobby came to visit me last night."

Both Redpaw and Fawnpaw looked up, looking amazed. So Nightpaw told them everything Bobby had told him...or rather, _hadn't_ told him. Fawnpaw and Redpaw listened with their mouths open and their eyes widened.

Fawnpaw's jaws dropped. "The Cavern of Secrets was opened before?"

Redpaw straightened himself up and meowed elatedly, "Blizzardclaw must've opened the Cavern when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Icepaw how to do it. Yet I wish Bobby told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know why nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," Fawnpaw spoke up, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself, pretend to be a suit of armor or something. I've read about Chameleon Specters before."

"You read too much books," Redpaw yawned, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. Looking around, he asked in a confused way, "Tell me one more time. Why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight in a she-cats' restroom? Don't you think we'll get caught?"

Fawnpaw rolled her eyes. "No. No one comes in here often."

Redpaw frowned at her. "Why?"

"Carping Turtleneck."

"Oh, okay." Then Redpaw crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at Nightpaw. "So Bobby's the one who stopped us from getting on the train and he broke your leg." The black cat nodded and the ginger tom shook his head. "You know, if he doesn't stop trying to save your life, he'll get you killed."

**...**

The news that Mousepaw was struck and lying as if dead in the medicine den had already spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and doubt instead of the usual cheer. The first year cats were now moving around the castle in pairs as if scared they would be attacked if they wandered off alone.

Leafpaw, who sat next to Mousepaw in Charms, was upset, but Nightpaw felt that Berrytail and Cherrynose weren't helping in cheering her up. They took turns covering themselves with fox fur or boils and leaping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Sandthorn, seething with rage, snarled at them that he would write to Hollywhisker and tell her Leafpaw was having bad dreams.

Meanwhile, concealed from the mentors, a roaring trade in trinkets, charms, and other defensive tools was sweeping through the place. Toadpaw had bought a large foul-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting lizard tail before the other LionClan toms pointed out he was in no danger. He was a pure-breed, and thus unlikely to be attacked.

"They went for Oscar first," Toadpaw reminded them, his round face frightened. "And everyone knows I'm almost a rogue."

**...**

In the second quarter moon of December, Thistleheart came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. The Golden Trio signed her list; they had heard Icepaw was staying, which made them suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to get a confession out of him.

Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed a bicorn horn and boomslang skin, and what was worse was that they would have to get them was from Brokenfang's private stores. Nightpaw secretly felt he would rather face ViperClan's legendary monster than let the dark brown tabby tom catch him robbing his office.

"What we need," Fawnpaw explained as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, "is a distraction. Then one of us can sneak into Brokenfang's office and take what we need."

Nightpaw and Redpaw just looked at her nervously.

Fawnpaw seemed to get it, for she went on sensibly, "I think I better do the actual robbery. You two will be exiled if you get into any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you gotta do is to do enough chaos to keep Brokenfang busy for five minutes or so."

Nightpaw just grinned weakly. Purposely causing mayhem in Brokenfang's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping griffin in the eye. Hence the motto of the Forest, but mostly for the dragon.

**...**

Potions lessons took place in one of the big dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson continued in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of materials. Brokenfang prowled stealthily through the potion vapors, making mean comments about the LionClan cats' work while the ViperClan cats scoffed satisfactorily. Icepaw, who was Brokenfang's preferred apprentice, flung sheep eyeballs at Redpaw and Nightpaw, who knew that if they reacted, they would get detention faster than you could say "Not fair."

Nightpaw's Growth Mix was far too gooey, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Fawnpaw's signal, and he didn't listen too much as Brokenfang paused to sneer at his runny potion. When the Potions mentor turned and stalked away to criticize Toadpaw, Fawnpaw caught Nightpaw's eye and nodded.

The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Berrytail's fireworks out of his bag, and gave it a quick prod with his tail-wand, making it fizzle and sputter. Knowing he had only a few seconds, Nightpaw straightened up, took aim, and threw it into the air. It landed right on target right into Monkeypaw's pot.

Monkeypaw's potion swiftly exploded, showering the whole class with potion. Cats shrieked as splashes of the Growth Mix hit them. Icepaw got a faceful and his pink nose began to swell like a puffer fish; Monkeypaw, meanwhile, blundered around, covering his now rat-sized eyes. Brokenfang was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Nightpaw saw Fawnpaw creep quietly into Brokenfang's office.

Brokenfang roared loudly, "Silence! SILENCE! "Any cat splashed with the potion, come here for a Devaluing Draft! When I find out who did this..."

Nightpaw tried his best not to laugh as he watched Icepaw hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small pink melon. As half the class trudged up to Brokenfang's desk (some weighted down with tails like clubs, others unable to walk with log-like legs), Nightpaw saw Fawnpaw slide back into the dungeon, her bag bulging.

When everyone had taken a swill of antidote and the various swellings had reduced, Brokenfang swept over to Monkeypaw's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush as his dark amber eyes glowed with rage.

"When I find out who threw this," Brokenfang hissed, "I shall make sure that cat is exiled."

Nightpaw arranged his face into what he hoped was a baffled expression on his face. Brokenfang was glaring at him, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.

"He just knew it was me," Nightpaw panted to his friends as they ran back to Carping Turtleneck's bathroom and sat before the pot. "I could tell."

Fawnpaw quickly threw the new ingredients into the pot and began to stir busily. "It'll be ready in a half-moon," she purred cheerfully.

"Brokenfang can't prove it was you," Redpaw meowed calmingly to Nightpaw. "What's the worst he can do?"

As the potion stewed and bubbled, Nightpaw merely shrugged. "Knowing him, something bad."

**...**

A quarter moon later, the Golden Trio was padding across the entrance hall when they saw a small crowd of cats gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of paper that had just been pinned up. Sandpaw and Cinderpaw beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Battling Guild!" Sandpaw greeted them joyly. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons. They might be useful one of these days."

"You think ViperClan's monster can fight?" Redpaw meowed, but he also read the sign with interest. As the Golden Trio went to dinner, he meowed, "Could be useful. Should we go?"

Nightpaw and Fawnpaw were all for it, so at eight p.m., they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was smooth black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their tail-wands on their tails and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll teach us?" Fawnpaw meowed as they edged into the babbling crowd. "Someone told me Shortlegs was a fighting champ himself when he was younger. Maybe it'll be him."

"Hopefully. Just as long as it's not..." Nightpaw began, but he ended on a groan. Gloryhound was leaping onto the stage, glittering a deep lilac cape and escorted by Brokenfang, wearing his usual black.

He cleared his throat and began, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Marvelous! Now, Silverstar has granted me approval to start this little fighting guild, to train you all in case you need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on limitless cases. For full details, see my printed works." He meowed this with a flashy grin on his face.

"Let me present my helper, Brokenfang Snape. He told me he knows a bit about fighting himself and has resolutely agreed to help me with a short demo before we begin. But have no fear," he added with a smug smile on his face. "You'll still have him as a mentor when I'm finished with him!"

"Why don't they finish each other off?" Redpaw muttered in Nightpaw's ear.

Brokenfang's upper lip was curling into a nasty snarl. Nightpaw wondered why Gloryhound was still smiling like an idiot; if Brokenfang glared at him like that, he would fleeing as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Gloryhound and Brokenfang turned to face each other and bowed; well, Gloryhound did, with much pointless twirling of his tail, while Brokenfang jerked his head crossly. Then they raised their tail-wands like rapiers in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our tail-wands in the right combative position," Gloryhound told the quiet crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. And after we cast the first spells, we could either cast some more or use your teeth and claws. Neither one of us will be aiming to kill."

Nightpaw snorted, watching Brokenfang baring his teeth.

"One...two...three."

Both of them swung their tail-wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent. Then Brokenfang bellowed: _"Expelliarmus!"_

There was a dazzling flash of red light and Gloryhound was blasted off his paws. He flew back off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Icepaw and some of the other ViperClan cats cheered. Fawnpaw was dancing on her hind paws, trying to see the fight.

"Is he okay?" she squealed, horror in her orange eyes.

"Who cares?" Redpaw meowed loudly, laughing like a hyena.

Gloryhound was getting totteringly to his paws. His top hat had fallen off and his wavy cream-colored fur was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it! That is what is known as a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my tail-wand...thank you, Miss Brown... Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Brokenfang, but if you don't mind, it was very obvious what you were going to do. If I wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Brokenfang was looking murderous as he hissed, "How about we just split the class into sparring pairs and teach them how to block unfriendly spells?"

Possibly Gloryhound had noticed, for he meowed, "An excellent idea! Now I'm going to go amid you now and put you all into pairs. Brokenfang, if you'd like to help me..."

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Gloryhound teamed Toadpaw up with Finchpaw Finch-Fletchley, but Brokenfang reached Nightpaw and Redpaw first.

"It's time to split up the dream team," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner up with Finnigan. Potter..."

Quickly, Nightpaw moved routinely toward Fawnpaw. This was another way to try and avoid the dark brown tabby tom.

"No, no. I don't think so," Brokenfang sneered, smiling coldly as he grabbed his tail and dragged him back. "How about...Mr. Malfoy come over here to face the famous Potter? And you, Miss Granger...you can partner up with Miss Bulstrode."

Icepaw trotted over, smirking as if he was getting a special treat. Behind him stalked a black-furred ViperClan she-cat who reminded Nightpaw of a picture of a bulldog seen in Holidays with Hippos. She was large and stout looking with a flat muzzle; and her heavy jaw jutted hostilely. Fawnpaw gave her a weak smile, but she did not return the smile.

"Face your partners!" Gloryhound called, climbing back onto the platform. "And bow!"

Nightpaw and Icepaw leaned their heads downward, not taking their eyes off each other. For a moment, their eyes were locked together...enemy against enemy.

Gloryhound called out, "Tail-wands ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your foes...only to disarm them; we don't want any accidents. Three...two...one."

Nightpaw swung his tail-wand high, but Icepaw just started on "two". His spell hit Nightpaw so hard he felt as if he was hit over the head with wings. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Nightpaw pointed his wand straight at Icepaw and yelled, _"Rictusempra!"_

A jet of silver light hit Icepaw in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing. Nightpaw felt approval rise in his mind; Icepaw was surely going to get it.

"Disarm only!" Gloryhound cried in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Icepaw sank to the ground; Nightpaw had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could scarcely move for laughing. The young black cat hung back, with a vague feeling it would be dishonorable to hit the black-&-silver tabby while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake.

Gasping for breath, Icepaw pointed his tail-wand at Nightpaw's front legs, choked, _"Tarantallegra!"_ and the next second Nightpaw's four legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.

"Stop! Stop!" Gloryhound screeched, but Brokenfang took charge.

_"Finite Incantatem!"_ he shouted, whipping his tail-wand at the two young cats. Nightpaw's legs stopped dancing, Icepaw stopped cackling, and they were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Toadpaw and Finchpaw were lying on the floor, panting, and Redpaw was helping an ashen-faced Sandpaw get to his paws, saying sorry for whatever his broken tail-wand had did. Fawnpaw and Boulderpaw were still moving, for Boulderpaw was pinning Fawnpaw to the ground and the light brown tabby she-cat was whimpering in pain; both their tail-wands lay forgotten on the floor.

Nightpaw leapt forward and pulled Boulderpaw off as hard as he could. It was difficult; she was much bigger than he was and she seemed to be as heavy as a bulldog.

"Dear me," Gloryhound meowed, slipping through the crowd and looking at the result of the duels. "Up you go, Macmillan. Be careful, Miss Fawcett. Pinch it hard with your front paws. It'll stop bleeding about any second now."

Standing rattled in the middle of the hall, the Cornish Rex glanced at Brokenfang, whose dark amber eyes glinted, and looked away. "I believe Mr. Snape is right. I believe I should teach you to block hostile spells," he declared. "Let's have a helper pair. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you?"

"A bad idea, Lockhart," Brokenfang interceded, gliding over like a large nasty bat. "Longbottom causes damage with the easiest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the medicine den in a shell." Toadpaw's round brown tabby face went pinker as he looked away with humiliation.

Gloryhound blinked. "Okay. How about Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter?"

Brokenfang added with a cruel smile, "Also a bad idea. Weasley's tail-wand also causes damage with the easiest spells. We'll be also sending what's left of Potter to the medicine den in a shell. How about Malfoy and Potter again?"

"An excellent suggestion, Mr. Snape!" Gloryhound purred, gesturing Nightpaw and Icepaw into the middle of the hall. The crowd of cats backed away to give them some room.

"Now Nightpaw, when Icepaw points his tail-wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own tail-wand, attempted a difficult sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Both Brokenfang and Icepaw smirked as the Cornish Rex quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoop! It got a little overexcited."

Brokenfang moved closer to Icepaw, leaned forward, and whispered something into his ear. The young British Shorthair seemed to take this in, for he gave a wide smirk and aimed it at Nightpaw. The young black tom looked up nervously at Gloryhound and asked him if he could show him the blocking spell once again.

Gloryhound cuffed Nightpaw happily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did!"

"Drop my tail-wand?"

But Gloryhound wasn't listening. As the two apprentices faced each other, the cream-colored tom began counting down. "Three...two...one..."

"Scared, Potter?" Icepaw hissed, unsheathing his claws.

"You wish," Nightpaw muttered back, raising his tail-wand in the air.

"GO!"

Icepaw raised his tail-wand quickly and yowled, _"Serpensortia!"_

The end of his tail-wand exploded in a cloud of dark gray smoke. Nightpaw watched with horror as a long huge black rattlesnake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor in between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screeches of terror as the crowd of cats backed quickly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," Brokenfang called idly, but he clearly liked the sight of Nightpaw standing still, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" Gloryhound insisted.

He whipped his tail-wand at the snake and there was a loud bang. But the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten cat-lengths into the air and fell back to the floor with a smack. Infuriated and hissing irately, it slithered straight toward Finchpaw and raised itself again, fangs bared and poised to strike.

Nightpaw wasn't sure what made him do what happened next. He wasn't even aware of deciding if he would do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as if he was on ice and that he shouted naively at the snake, _"Leave him!"_ And amazingly, bizarrely, the snake fell to the floor, passive as a thick black king snake, its eyes now on him. Nightpaw felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the rattlesnake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't have explained.

He looked away from the snake to smile reassuringly at Finchpaw, fixing to tell him that he was okay. Nightpaw was waiting for him to be relieved or puzzled or even grateful, but instead...the peach-furred tom looked both angry and scared.

"What're you playing at?" he shouted. Before Nightpaw could explain himself, Finchpaw turned around and stormed out of the hall.

Brokenfang stepped forward and waved his tail-wand, and the rattlesnake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. The dark tabby, too, was looking at Nightpaw in an unexpected way. It was an insightful and calculating look, and Nightpaw didn't like it one bit. He was also dimly aware of a gloomy muttering all around the walls and cats looking over at him as if he was Red Helmet himself. Then he felt a tugging on his tail; it was Redpaw.

"Come on." The ginger American Shorthair's voice hissed in his ear. "Let's go."

He steered him out of the hall, Fawnpaw hurrying alongside them with the same expression on their faces. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as if they were scared of catching something. Nightpaw had no clue what was going on, but Redpaw and Fawnpaw didn't say anything until they dragged him all the way up to the empty LionClan camp room.

Then Redpaw picked up Nightpaw in his scruff with difficulty, dropped him into an armchair, and meowed with shock, "You're a Serpusmouth! Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?" Nightpaw asked with confusion.

"You can talk to snakes!" Fawnpaw added.

Nightpaw rubbed the back of his head. "I know. I mean, I accidentally set a wolf-snake on my cousin Tubby at the zoo once. Just once. But so what? I bet lots of cats here can do it."

Fawnpaw shook her head. "No, they can't! It's not a very common gift. This is bad."

"What's bad?" Nightpaw snapped, starting to feel angry. "What the hell is wrong with everyone? Look, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Finchpaw..."

"Oh, so _that's_ what you said to it?" Redpaw's blue eyes widened as he meowed with curiosity.

Nightpaw nodded furiously. "You were there! You heard me!"

Redpaw's tail flicked around him. "I heard you speaking Serpustongue. Snake language. It was creepy."

"I really spoke a different language?" Nightpaw mewed, gaping at him. That must be why the snake understood him last year at the zoo. "But I didn't know that... How can I speak a language without knowing I can?"

Redpaw shook his head. Both he and Fawnpaw were looking as if someone had mysteriously died. Nightpaw couldn't see what was so terrible.

So he went on, "Look, do you two want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a big snake from biting off Finchpaw's head? What does it matter how I did it as long as he doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters. I don't know, but it sounded like you were urging the snake on or something else," Fawnpaw explained finally in a hushed voice. "Listen. There's a reason the symbol of ViperClan is a snake. Viper Slytherin was also a Serpusmouth. He could talk to snakes too."

"Yeah!" Redpaw added. "And now the whole school will be thinking you're his great-great-great-grandson or something like that."

"But I'm not! I can't be..." Nightpaw sighed, his voice trailing away.

Fawnpaw eyed him with a serious look. "It'll be hard to prove that. He lived a thousand years ago, many moons ago. For all we know, you could be."

**...**

Nightpaw lay awake for hours in his nest that night. Through an opening in the curtains around his four-poster nest, he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered... Could he really be a heir of Viper Slytherin, founder of ViperClan? He didn't know anything at all about his father's side of the family. The Dursley cats had always forbidden questions about his warrior cat relatives, dead or alive.

Nightpaw tried to say something in Serpustongue, but the words wouldn't come. It seemed he would have to be face-to-face with a snake to do it.

_But I'm a LionClan cat. JUST a LionClan cat_, Nightpaw thought. _The Sorting Collar wouldn't have put me in here if I had ViperClan blood..._

_Ah_, said a malevolent little voice inside his brain, _but the Sorting Collar DID want to put you in ViperClan, remember?_

Nightpaw rolled around in his nest, pushing that thought away. He would have to see Finchpaw the next day in Herbology and he'd explain that he'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on. While he pawed a little at a comfy spot, he thought angrily any fool should have realized that.

...

By next morning, however, the snow that began in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick, the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled. Sproutflower wanted to fit hats and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else. It was important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mr. Sniffer and Mousepaw.

Nightpaw worried about this next to the fireplace in the LionClan camp room, while Redpaw and Fawnpaw used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.

"Oh, for StarClan's sake, Nightpaw," Fawnpaw hissed irritably as one of Redpaw's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. "Go find Finchpaw if it's so important."

So Nightpaw got up and left through the picture hole, wondering where Finchpaw might be.

The castle was darker than it usually was in the daytime thanks to thick swirling gray snow at every window. Shuddering, Nightpaw walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching glances of what was happening within. Thistleheart was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a kingfisher by accident. Resisting the urge to take a look, the Maine Coon mix padded by, thinking maybe Finchpaw would be using his free time to catch up on some work, and decided to check the library first.

But when he finally got there, something strange was taking place.

BadgerClan cats who should have been in Herbology were sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Nightpaw could see their heads close together and they were having what looked like a deep conversation. He couldn't see whether Finchpaw was among them or not. He was padding toward them when something of what they were saying met his furry ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.

"So anyways," a rotund tabby-&-white Exotic Shorthair was meowing, "I told Finchpaw to hide in our den. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next prey, it'll be for the best if he keeps a low profile for a bit. Of course, he's been waiting for something like this ever since he actually told him his name had been down for England. That's not what you need to blab about with Viper's heir on the loose, is it?"

"But why would Potter want to attack Finchpaw?" a black-&-white she-cat asked him.

The tabby-&-white tom replied, "Well, Finchpaw did tell Potter he was kittypet-born."

The she-cat asked him anxiously, "Birchpaw, do you really think it's him?"

"Snowpaw," Birchpaw told her solemnly, "he's a _Serpusmouth_. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark warrior cat. You ever heard of a decent cat who could talk to snakes? They even called Viper himself Parsel-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Birchpaw went on quietly, "Remember what was written on the wall? _'Foes of the Heir, Beware?'_ Potter had some sort of run-in with Oscar. Next thing we know, Oscar's ferret's been attacked. That first year cat, Mousepaw Creevey, was annoying Potter at the AirBall match too much, taking pictures of him while he laid in the mud. Next thing we know, Creevey's been attacked."

"Are you sure? He always seems so nice," Snowpaw meowed hesitantly, "and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who vanish. He can't be all bad."

Birchpaw lowered his voice while the BadgerClan cats bent in closer. Nightpaw edged nearer so that he could catch Birchpaw's words, but what he heard next made him hiss silently.

"No one knows how he survived that attack from You-Know-Who. I mean, he was only a kit when it happened. That attack could've left him smashed to little pieces. Only a really powerful Dark warrior cat could have survived a curse like that." He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper and rasped, "That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Animal conflicting with him. I wonder what kind of other powers Potter's been hiding?"

_This guy's an idiot!_

Nightpaw couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly and shaking with rage, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn't felt so angry, he would have found the sight that greeted him funny. Every BadgerClan cat in front of him looked as if they were Petrified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Birchpaw's face.

"Um, greetings," Nightpaw meowed as calmly as he could. "I'm looking for Finchpaw."

The BadgerClan cats' worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked awfully at Birchpaw and pushed him forward quickly.

"What do you want with him?" Birchpaw rasped in a shaky voice.

Nightpaw cleared his throat and began, "I want to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Fighting Guild."

The Exotic Shorthair bit his lips and then, taking a deep breath, replied, "We were all there. We saw what really happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake just backed off?" Nightpaw asked him.

"All _I_ saw," Birchpaw replied inflexibly, though he was shaky as he spoke, "was you speaking Serpustongue and chasing the snake toward Finchpaw."

His black fur bristling with anger, Nightpaw snapped, "I did NOT chase it at him! It didn't even touch him!"

Birchpaw interrupted, "It was a clear miss." Then he added hastily, "In case you're getting any ideas, you can trace my family back through nine generations of Exotic Shorthair warrior cats and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so..."

"I don't give a damn about what blood you've got!" Nightpaw growled angrily. "Why would I want to attack kittypet-borns? Most of you are idiots, aren't you? I mean, one of my best friends is a kittypet-born, not to mention my own mother!"

"I heard you hate those kittypets you live with," Birchpaw retorted swiftly.

Nightpaw sighed and growled, "It's not possible to live with the Dursley cats and not hate them. I'd like to see you try. In fact, I'd like to see any of you try."

He turned away from him and stormed out of the library, earning himself a withering glare from Dustcloud Pince. The librarian of the Forest was polishing the golden cover of a large spell book.

Nightpaw blundered up the corridor, scarcely noticing where he was going, for he was so angry. How dare that BadgerClan cat accuse him for being a Dark animal? The result was he walked into something very large and solid, which knocked him backward to the floor.

"Hey, Badgerstripe. Sorry there," Nightpaw mewed, looking up.

Badgerstripe's face was entirely hidden by a woolly snow-covered mask, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, for he filled most of the corridor in his leaf-bare overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from his massive jaws, but he was carrying it gently, proving he didn't kill it.

The huge black tom pulled off his mask so he could speak with Nightpaw. "Hey, buddy. And that's okay. You all right? Why ain't yeh in class?"

Nightpaw heaved himself to his paws and replied, "Class got cancelled for today. What're you doing in here?"

Badgerstripe showed him the limp rooster.

"Argh...second one killed this school period," he explained. "It's foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bat-sheep that did this, an' I need Silverstar's permission ter put a spell around the hen coop." He peered closely at Nightpaw, concern flashing in his dark amber eyes. "Yeh sure yeh're all right? Yeh look all hot an' bothered."

Nightpaw couldn't bring himself to repeat what Birchpaw MacMillan and the other cats of BadgerClan said about him. He was quite sure that Badgerstripe wouldn't quite believe him.

"It's nothing," he meowed. "I better go, Badgerstripe. Transfiguration class is up next and I've got to pick up my books."

Badgerstripe gave Nightpaw a friendly head ruffle with his large paw and stepped out of the way. The smaller black cat ambled away, his mind still full of what Birchpaw had said about him. "_Finchpaw _did_ tell Potter he was kittypet-born..."_

Feeling that anger bubble inside his blood, Nightpaw trudged up the stairs and turned around yet another corridor, which was quite dark. The torches were extinguished by a strong icy draft blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the corridor when he tripped headfirst over something lying on the floor.

He turned to peer at what he had fallen over and felt as if his stomach had dissolved. Nightpaw did not want to believe it, but there was no denying it now.

Finchpaw was lying on the floor, rigid and cold. He had a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, maybe the strangest sight Nightpaw had ever seen.

It was Headlesshead Nick, but he was no longer pearly-white and transparent. He was now all black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal six mouse-lengths off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to the peach-colored Australian Mist.

Nightpaw got to his paws, his breathing fast and shallow and his heart thumping hard against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of ants scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of mentors from the classes on either side.

He could run away, and no one would ever know he was there. But he couldn't just leave them lying here. He had to get help. But would anyone believe he hadn't had anything to do with this?

As he stood there, freaking out, a door right next to him opened with a bang. The Joker, the school's only demon, came shooting out.

"Look! Why, it's potty wee Potter!" the Joker hooted, hitting Nightpaw upside the head as he bounced past him. "What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking...?"

The black-furred demon stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Finchpaw and Headlesshead. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Nightpaw could stop him, screeched, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTACK! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash! Crash! Crash!

Door after door flew open along the corridor and crowds of cats came flooding out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Finchpaw was at risk of being squashed and cats kept standing directly in Headlesshead Nick. Nightpaw found himself pinned against the wall as the mentors shouted for quiet. Thistleheart came running, followed by her class, one of whom still had blue-colored fur. She used her tail-wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Birchpaw arrived, panting, on the scene with Oscar behind him.

"Caught in the act!" the stout tabby-&-white cat shouted, his face white with shock as he pointed his tail vividly at the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix.

Leering at Nightpaw, Oscar added, "Caught indeed. We'll have you out this time, Potter. Mark my words."

"That will do, Macmillan and Oscar!" Thistleheart barked cuttingly. She leaped in front of Nightpaw and flicked her tail towards the surrounding cats. Oscar trudged away and shooed them away, muttering something not heard.

The Joker was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; the demon cats always loved it when chaos broke out. As the mentors were bent over Finchpaw and Headlesshead Nick, examining them, the Joker broke into song:

_"__Oh, Potter, you rotter, what have you done?_

_You're killing off cats, you think it's fun!"_

"Enough!" Thistleheart spat at him, and the Joker zoomed away backward while blowing a raspberry at Nightpaw.

Finchpaw was carried up to the hospital wing by Shortlegs and Graytail Sinistra (a dark gray she-cat with a pale gray tail) of the Stargazing section, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Headlesshead Nick. Then Thistleheart conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Birchpaw with orders to waft Headlesshead Nick up the stairs. That was what Birchpaw did, fanning Nick along like a silent black butterfly without looking back.

This left Nightpaw and Thistleheart alone together. The expression on the deputy's face was very difficult to read.

Then she padded down the hallway and flicked her tail at him, meowing, "This way, Potter."

"Thistleheart," Nightpaw meowed right away, "I swear I didn't..."

"This is for Silverstar to do, not me," Thistleheart interrupted briskly.

Nightpaw gave a nervous sigh and padded silently after her. They marched on in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle. The gargoyle looked like a mix between a vulture and a lion.

"Natural selections!" she meowed to the statue.

This was indeed a password, for the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Despite being scared about what was coming, Nightpaw was, for a moment, amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving easily upward, like what Twolegs called escalators.

As he and Thistleheart stepped onto it, Nightpaw heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles and going higher and higher until at last, slightly dizzy, Nightpaw saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a dragon.

He knew now where he was being taken. This must the den where Silverstar lived.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Man, that took a while to upload and write. And if you're wondering why some of the dialogue is different, I'm mixing the books and movies together.**

**Katara: I still can't believe it though! Everyone thinking Harry was Slytherin's Heir? And how DARE that kid accuse him of making that snake attack!**

**Holly: Katara, relax. You don't want to pass out from too much anger, would you?**

**Katara: (Glares at her, but then calms down) No.**

**Holly: Besides, they'll realize he wasn't Slytherin's Heir after all. In fact, we all know it's-**

**AvatarCat11: We better not set any spoilers, Holly. Sorry. So who wants to say the review thing?**

**WildCroconaw: Hey, I've been reading your stories lately and they're amazing! So can I say the review thing? (AvatarCat11 nods and so do Katara and Holly) Thanks! (To the readers) You see that button at the bottom of the page? It's the review button, and if you click it and leave a review, you'll get virtual Halloween candy.**

**Everyone: See ya next time! And Happy early Halloween!**


	12. The Polyjuice Potion

**AvatarCat11: I'm glad I hung out with my dad for a few days, but I'm also happy to be back at home. But this means I have to put up with my sister's fiancé.**

**Holly: Why? What'd he do to you?**

**AvatarCat11: Nothing bad. It's just... (Sighs) ...I think he's starting to be like my stepdad when he lived with us. And he's just...a fuddy-duddy.**

**Katara: (Gives him a very confused look) What's that?**

**Holly: Someone who's not cheerful or fun-loving. Didn't you know that? (To AvatarCat11) So you're not happy he's gonna be your brother-in-law?**

**AvatarCat11: He IS gonna be my brother-in-law, but I won't like it. Look, can we just get the disclaimer over with?**

**Katara: Sure. I'll say it this time.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter own all the rights to Harry Potter and Warrior Cats. AvatarCat11 is blending them together for your entertainment. And he's also adding parts from the movies to give the scenes a new twist.**

**Updating Date: November 17, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Polyjuice Potion_

The two cats stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Thistleheart sat on her haunches to knock on the door. It opened silently and they entered. The pale brown tabby she-cat flicked her tail at Nightpaw to tell him to wait and left him there, alone.

Nightpaw looked around the room. One thing was sure: of all the mentors' offices Nightpaw visited so far this year, Silverstar's was the most interesting so far. If he wasn't scared out of his mind that he was about to be exiled, he would have been happy to take a look around it.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. Besides pine trees and a large pool of water, a number of curious silver tools stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of ancient leaders of the Forest, all of whom were catnapping gently in their frames. There was also an enormous claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a scruffy light blue collar.

The Sorting Collar.

Nightpaw hesitated for a bit. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping warrior cats on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the collar down and tried it on again? Just to see...to make sure it put him in the right Clan.

He crept quietly around the desk, leaped onto the collar's stand, lifted the collar from its shelf, and lowered it slowly over his head and around his neck. It was still too large and slipped down around his neck like a loose necklace, just as it did the last time he put it on. Nightpaw leaped down and sat on the floor, waiting with his eyes closed.

Then a small voice hissed, "Fly in your teriyaki, eh, Potter?"

Nightpaw nodded. "Sorry to bother you. I wanted to ask you if...if you've put me in the right Clan."

"Hmmm..." the collar replied smartly. "You were most certainly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before."

Nightpaw's heart leapt until...

"You _would have_ done well in ViperClan."

The young black cat felt his belly plummet. He grabbed the back of the collar in his forepaws and pulled it off. It hung limply in his left front paw, grubby and faded. Nightpaw leaped back up onto the stand and put it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.

"You're wrong," he meowed to the still and silent collar. It didn't move at all after that.

Nightpaw backed away from it slowly, watching it. Then a strange gagging noise from behind him made him wheel around on the spot. He wasn't alone after all.

Standing on a golden perch in front of the desk was a feeble-looking bird that looked a lot like a half-plucked turkey or chicken. It had reddish-orange feathers with white patches here and there, and it had bright gray eyes. Nightpaw stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its strange gagging noise again.

Nightpaw thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as he watched, a couple more red feathers fell out of its tail. Nightpaw began thinking that all he needed was for Silverstar's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it. But then, the bird burst into flames.

The Maine Coon mix yelped in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked wildly around to see if there was a cup of water to put the flames out, but there was none for the pool. The bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud scream and, next second, there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.

_Great StarClan!_

The office door had finally opened. Silverstar ambled in, looking very somber.

"Silverstar!" Nightpaw had gasped with shame. "I'm so sorry! Your bird...I couldn't do anything! He just caught on fire!"

But to his astonishment, the silver tabby Persian smiled. "Oh, about time, too. He's really been looking awful for days. I've been telling him to buck up."

He chuckled at the stunned look on Nightpaw's face. "Roku is a phoenix, Nightpaw. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch."

So Nightpaw looked down in time to see a tiny wrinkled newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was as ugly as the old one, but it was making some cute little squawking sounds.

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," Silverstar purred sadly, going over to the newborn phoenix and patting its head. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. They are amazing animals. They can carry very heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make extremely true pets."

In the quiet shock of Roku catching fire, Nightpaw had forgotten what he was there for. But it all came back to him as Silverstar settled himself in the chair behind the desk and fixed him with his piercing light-blue stare.

Before Silverstar could say another word, however, the door of the office flew open with a bang. Badgerstripe had just burst in with a wild look in his eyes. His mask was dangling from his face and the dead rooster was still swinging around in his jaws.

The gamekeeper spat the rooster corpse out before meowing urgently, "It wasn' Nightpaw, sir! I was just talkin' ter him seconds before that kid was found! He never had time, sir!"

Silverstar meowed calmly, "Badgerstripe-"

But Badgerstripe ranted on, kicking the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere. "It can't have bin him! I'll swear it in front o' the Government o' Warriorism if I have to!"

"Badgerstripe-"

"Yeh've got the wrong kid, Silverstar! I know Nightpaw would never-"

"Badgerstripe!" Silverstar shouted loudly, making Badgerstripe stop. Then he went on gently, "I do not believe Nightpaw attacked those cats."

The huge black cat looked quite embarrassed as he muttered, "Oh. Right. I'll wait outside then, sir."

Then he picked the rooster up in his jaws and stomped out of the office.

"You don't think it was me?" Nightpaw repeated hopefully as Silverstar brushed rooster feathers off his desk with his tail.

Silverstar's face looked somber, but he meowed, "No, I don't. I believe you are innocent. But I still want to talk to you."

Nightpaw waited nervously while his leader studied him, his feathery tail twitching from side to side. He tried to look away from his blue gaze, but he couldn't. Silverstar's eyes were filled with kindness and gentle understanding.

"I must ask you, Nightpaw, if there is anything you'd like to tell me," he meowed very gently. "Anything at all."

Nightpaw didn't know what to say. But he did think of several things at the same time.

He thought of Icepaw loudly yowling, "You'll be next, Kittybloods!" and the Polyjuice Potion in Carping Turtleneck's restroom. Then he thought of the ghostly voice he heard twice and remembered what Redpaw and Fawnpaw said: "Hearing voices no one else can is a bad sign. It's bad even in the Warrior World." He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow connected with Viper...

"No," Nightpaw finally meowed. "I don't have anything to say."

**...**

The double attack on both Finchpaw and Headlesshead Nick turned what had once been anxiety into real panic. But it was Headlesshead Nick's fate that seemed to worry cats the most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? What terrible power could harm one who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Forest Express so that cats could go home for Christmas.

"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Redpaw told his friends. "Us, Icepaw, and his goons. It's a jolly holiday with those two," he added sarcastically.

The two fat tabbies, who did what Icepaw did, signed themselves up to stay over the holidays, too. But Nightpaw was glad that most cats were leaving. He was so sick and tired of cats shirking around him in the corridors, as if he would sprout fangs or spit poison. He was also tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.

Berrytail and Cherrynose, on the other paw, found all this very funny. They went on their way to march ahead of Nightpaw down the halls, shouting stuff like "Look! It's Viper's Heir!" or "Careful! He's a really evil warrior!"

Sandthorn deeply objected to this behavior. "It is _not_ funny," he growled coldly.

"Oh, lighten up, Sandthorn," Berrytail objected. "Nightpaw's in a hurry."

"Yeah! He's going to the Cavern of Secrets for coffee with his fanged servant," Cherrynose added.

Leafpaw didn't find it funny either. She would wail for them to stop every time Berrytail asked Nightpaw who he was planning to attack next. This also happened when Cherrynose pretended to ward the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix off with a large clove of garlic on a stick when they met.

Nightpaw, however, didn't mind. It made him feel better that the Weasley twins, at least, thought the idea of his being Viper's Heir was stupid. But their antics seemed to be irritating Icepaw, who looked gradually bitter each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he wants to say it's really him," Redpaw reasoned eloquently. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything. And you're getting all the credit for his dirty work." Taking the look on Nightpaw's face, he meowed, "Oh, come on. They're only joking."

"They're the only ones," Nightpaw muttered.

Redpaw stared at him before going on, "Okay, so half the school thinks you're going down to the Cavern of Secrets every night. Who cares?"

The young black cat sighed. "Maybe they're right."

"Really?" Fawnpaw asked him in disbelief. "That's kinda lame of you to say."

"Look, I didn't know I could speak Serpustongue!" Nightpaw snapped. "What else don't I know about myself? Look. Maybe you can do something, even something horrible and not know you did it."

Fawnpaw gazed at him with concern in her brown eyes. "You don't believe that. I know you don't. And if it makes you feel any better, Icepaw's staying for the holidays, too. Remember?"

"I do," Redpaw answered. "But why would that make anyone feel any better?"

"Because the Polyjuice Potion's almost ready," Fawnpaw purred happily. "In a few days, we'll find out who really is Viper's Heir."

**...**

At last, the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Nightpaw found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he and his friends had the run of LionClan Tower, which meant they could play Blast Snap loudly without any cat telling them off, and practice battling in private. Berrytail, Cherrynose, and Leafpaw had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Birdstorm in Japan with their parents.

But Sandthorn, who didn't like what he called their "silly" behavior, didn't spend much time in the LionClan camp room. He had already told them arrogantly that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the mentors during this troubled time.

Christmas morning dawned forward, cold and white. Nightpaw and Redpaw, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Fawnpaw. She had suddenly burst into the room, a red cat sweater on her and carrying presents for them both.

"Wake up, guys!" she called cheerfully, pulling back the curtains at the window.

Redpaw ducked his head under the covers and groaned, "Fawnpaw? I thought you couldn't be in here?"

Rolling her eyes, Fawnpaw tossed him a gift and purred, "Merry Christmas to you too. I've been up for nearly an hour, adding some more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Nightpaw sat up, suddenly wide awake. "Are you sure?"

"Yep," Fawnpaw replied, shifting Scrapper the mouse so that she could sit down on the end of Redpaw's four-post nest. "If we're going to do it, it should be tonight."

At that moment, Katara finally swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak. The Barn Owl/Snowy Owl mix looked rather happier than she did a few moons ago.

"Hey there, girl," Nightpaw greeted her happily as she landed on his nest. "You're talking to me again?"

She nibbled his ear in a loving way, which was a better present than the one she brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursley cats. They had sent Nightpaw a sock and a note telling him to find out when he would be able to stay at the Forest for greenleaf too. When Daniel sent him some cat toys like toy pigeons, Nightpaw felt nostalgic and regretful. He knew his owner couldn't be there at the moment at the house, and he wanted to apologize.

The rest of his Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Badgerstripe sent him a large tin of homemade fudge, which Nightpaw softened by the fire before eating; Redpaw gave him a book called Soaring with the Gators, a book of exciting facts about his AirBall team, and Fawnpaw bought him a deluxe bald eagle-feather quill.

Nightpaw opened the last present to find a new cat sweater from Hollywhisker and Samantha, Redpaw's owner, and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about the red Dodge truck (which didn't appear since its crash with the Rampaging Rowan). And he felt guiltier about the rule-breaking he and Redpaw were planning next.

No one, not even dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at the Forest.

The Great Hall looked as magestic as usual. Not only were there a dozen snowy Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Silverstar led them in a few of his favorite Christmas carols and Badgerstripe was booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed.

Sandthorn, who didn't see Berrytail bewitching his prefect badge so that it read "Pinhead," asked them all what was so funny. Nightpaw didn't even care that Icepaw was making loud rude remarks about his new cat sweater from the ViperClan table. With luck, the black-&-silver tabby tom would be getting his just deserts in a few hours' time.

Nightpaw and Redpaw had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas cake when Fawnpaw ushered them out of the hall. They realized she was going to finalize their plans for the evening.

"We still need a bit of the cat you're being," Fawnpaw began sensibly, as if she was sending them to the store for cat food. "And it's best if you get something from Lobsterpaw and Monkeypaw. They're Icepaw's best friends; he'll tell them anything."

Redpaw meowed, "Couldn't we just trick them into telling?"

Fawnpaw rolled her eyes yet again. "Even _they_ aren't that thick. That's why we need to make sure the real thugs won't burst in on us while we're grilling him."

She held out two cupcakes and meowed, ignoring their stupefied faces, "Now look. I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Swig. All you gotta do is make sure those two mouse-brains find them. You know how gluttonous they are. They're most certainly gonna eat 'em. Once they fall asleep, pull out a few pieces of their fur and hide them in a wing closet."

The toms looked at each other in shock.

"Fawnpaw, I don't think-"

"That could go wrong-"

But Fawnpaw had a resolute glint in her eye like the one Thistleheart sometimes had. This made the two toms settle down and look at her. "The potion will be useless without their fur," she told them sternly. "You do want to ask Icepaw, don't you?"

"All right. Fine," Nightpaw meowed. "But what about you? Whose fur are you ripping out?"

"I already got mine!" the Angora mix purred brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her bag and showing them the single hair inside. "Remember Boulderpaw Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Fighting Guild? She left this on my pelt when she was trying to choke me! And she's gone home for Christmas, so I'll tell the ViperClan cats I've changed my mind."

When Fawnpaw hurried off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Redpaw turned to Nightpaw with a pessimistic expression. Nightpaw gave him the same expression.

"Have you heard of a plan where things could go wrong?"

**...**

But to their amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Fawnpaw said. They lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas cake, waiting for Icepaw's cronies as they were left alone at the ViperClan table, shoveling down fourth helpings of mashed potatoes.

But when Redpaw began flicking his tail towards the cupcakes, Nightpaw held out a paw to stop him. "Um, Redpaw? I think I better do it."

Redpaw looked ready to protest, but he looked back at his scratched tail-wand. Sighing, he turned back to Nightpaw and muttered reluctantly, "Sure."

"All right." Nightpaw crept around the corner, flicked his tail towards the cupcakes, and mewed, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

At that, the chocolate cupcakes were lifted up and put on the end of the banisters. When they spotted Icepaw's cronies coming out of the Great Hall, Nightpaw and Redpaw hid quickly behind a Sky Bison statue next to the front door. Then they waited until it was the time to leap out and get their fur.

"How stupid could you get?" Redpaw laughed elatedly as Lobsterpaw pointed out the cupcakes to Monkeypaw and grabbed them.

Grinning stupidly, the two fat dark tabbies stuffed the cupcakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed hungrily, looks of success on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, the dark tabbies both keeled over backward onto the floor.

By far, the hardest part was hiding them in the closet across the hall. Once they were safely put among the buckets, Nightpaw yanked out some fur that covered Monkeypaw's eyes and Redpaw pulled out several of Lobsterpaw's fur. They also stole their capes because their own were far too small for those two.

Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Carping Turtleneck's restroom. They could hardly see for the thick smoke issuing from the stall in which Fawnpaw was stirring the pot. Pulling their capes up over their faces, Nightpaw and Redpaw knocked softly on the door.

"Fawnpaw?"

They heard the scrape of the lock and Fawnpaw emerged from the smoke. She was shiny-faced and looking restless, her light brown tabby fur glowing in the moonlight like a ghost. Behind her they heard the glopping sounds of the bubbling glutinous potion. Three glass beakers stood ready on the lavatory seat.

"So did you get the fur?" Fawnpaw asked them breathlessly.

Nightpaw nodded and showed her Monkeypaw's fur. Redpaw did the same.

"Good. And I sneaked these spare capes out of the wash," Fawnpaw went on, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Lobsterpaw and Redpaw."

The three of them padded over to their toilet and looked down into the pot. Close up, the potion looked like thick dark mud, bubbling lethargically. Fawnpaw gently lifted the pot onto her head and started carrying it to the sink, the other two helping her along the way.

Nervously rereading the stained page of Most Potent Potions, Fawnpaw mewed, "I'm sure I did everything right. It says here that...once we've drunk it, we'll have one hour before we change back into ourselves."

"Now what?" Redpaw asked her.

"We separate it into three glasses and add the fur."

Fawnpaw ladled large spoonsful of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her jaws trembling, she shook Boulderpaw's fur out of its bottle into the first glass.

The potion hissed loudly like a boiling caldron and bubbled madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow. It looked quite ugly indeed.

"Ugh...fur of Boulderpaw," Redpaw growled, eyeing it with disgust. "Bet it tastes gross."

"Add yours, then," Fawnpaw dared.

Nightpaw went ahead and dropped Monkeypaw's hair into the middle glass while Redpaw put Lobsterpaw's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Monkeypaw's turned the khaki color of mucus, and Lobsterpaw's was a dark murky brown.

Redpaw looked at his potion and spat, "Ugh...essence of Lobsterpaw."

As the three cats leaned down towards their glasses, Nightpaw asked, "Ready?"

"Ready," meowed the two cats.

"One...two...three."

Screwing his face up to ignore the smell, Nightpaw lapped up the potion in two large gulps. It tasted like burnt lettuce.

But when they were done, Redpaw turned around on the spot, knocking his glass to the floor. "I think I'm gonna puke," he groaned as he raced for a stall.

"Me too," Fawnpaw added, doing the same thing.

Immediately, Nightpaw's insides started writhing as if he just swallowed live snakes; bending low to the ground, he wondered whether he was going to be sick.

Then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his claws; next, bringing him gasping to the ground, came a horrible melting feeling, as his pelt bubbled like hot wax. Before his eyes, his paws began to grow, the toes thickened, the claws lengthened, the muscles were bulging like bolts. His shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling feeling told him that his fur was slowly changing from black to dark brown. His cape ripped as his back expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops; his feet were agony in muscles too large to move.

As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Nightpaw lay face-down on the cold floor, listening to Turtleneck gurgling sulkily in the end toilet. With difficulty, he sheathed his claws and stood up.

So this was what it felt like, being Monkeypaw. His large paw trembling, he pulled off his old cape, which was hanging a bit above his shoulders, pulled on a new cape, and flicked his short tail. He reached up to brush the head fur out of his eyes and met only the short growth of thin spikes, low on his forehead.

Out of habit, he picked up a pair of glasses, put them on, and called, "You okay?" Incredibly, he still had his own voice.

"Yeah," came the grunt of Redpaw from his right.

Nightpaw looked over to the side and stepped in front of the mirror. Monkeypaw stared back at him out of dull deep-set eyes. Nightpaw raised his paw and licked it. Monkeypaw did the same thing.

Redpaw's door opened at last, and the two toms stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Redpaw was identical like Lobsterpaw, from the pudding-bowl head fur to the long front legs and to his dark tabby fur.

"N-Nightpaw?" Redpaw gasped in shock.

Nightpaw nodded. "Yeah."

Padding close to Nightpaw and licking his nose, he meowed in awe, "Bloody hell!"

"We still sound like ourselves," Nightpaw reminded him. "You gotta sound more like Lobsterpaw."

"Um...bloody hell," the once-ginger tom meowed, his voice getting deepened.

"That's better. Now we better go," Nightpaw meowed, looking up at the wall clock. "We need to find out where the ViperClan camp room is. I hope we find someone to follow."

Redpaw, who was gazing at Nightpaw, meowed, "Do you know how odd it is to see Monkeypaw thinking?" He banged on Fawnpaw's door, calling, "C'mon, Fawnpaw! We need to go!"

Fawnpaw answered him, "I-I don't think I'll come at all. You go on without me."

"Fawnpaw, we already know Boulderpaw's hideous," Redpaw called. "No one'll know it's you."

"No, really! I'm not going. Now hurry! You're wasting time!"

Nightpaw looked over at Redpaw, bewildered.

"That looks more like Monkeypaw," Redpaw told him. "That's how he looks every time a mentor asks him a question."

"Fawnpaw, are you sure you're okay?" Nightpaw asked through the door.

The Angora mix squeaked, "Yeah! I'm fine! Go on!"

Nightpaw looked up at the wall clock. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed. Fawnpaw was right; they were indeed wasting time.

"We'll meet you back here, okay?" he called.

There was no answer. So Nightpaw and Redpaw opened the restroom door warily, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.

"Don't swing your tail like that," Nightpaw muttered to Redpaw.

"Huh?"

"Lobsterpaw holds it sort of stiff."

"How's this?"

"Yeah. Good."

They padded down the limestone staircase, careful that no one was seeing them. All they needed now was a ViperClan cat that they could follow to the ViperClan camp room. But there was nobody around.

"Any ideas?" Nightpaw muttered.

"Well...the ViperClan cats always come up to breakfast from there," Redpaw replied, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a she-cat with curly light tabby fur emerged from the entrance. This was a LaPerm cat, a breed with curly fur.

"Pardon us," Redpaw called, hurrying up to her. "We forgot the way to our camp room. Can you show us where it's at?"

"What?" the she-cat asked stiffly. "_Our_ camp room? _I'm_ a RavenClan cat."

Nightpaw and Redpaw groaned inwardly at asking the wrong cat. The LaPerm she-cat strolled away, looking doubtfully back at them.

After that, the two toms of the Golden Trio hurried down the stone steps into the damp darkness. Their pawsteps were echoing loudly as the cronies' large paws hit the floor. This task wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.

The complex halls usually filled with cats were deserted. They stalked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking the moon to see how much time they had left. After about twenty-five minutes later, just when they were desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

Redpaw lashed his short tail around in joy. "Ha! There's one of them now!"

The feline figure was now emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a ViperClan cat; it was Sandthorn.

"What're you doing down here?" Redpaw asked in surprise. After a nudge from Nightpaw, he retraced his sentence with a deeper voice, "I mean...what're you doing down here?"

The curly-furred tomcat looked insulted. "That is none of your business. Lobsterpaw, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," Redpaw replied.

"Well, get back to your dorms," Sandthorn told them sternly. "It's not safe to go roving around dark corridors these days."

Redpaw gave him a glare. "YOU are."

Drawing himself up, he meowed pompously, "_I_ am a prefect. Nothing will attack me."

A voice suddenly echoed from behind Nightpaw and Redpaw. Icepaw was strolling toward them with a newspaper held tightly in his jaws. For the first time ever, Nightpaw was happy to see him.

"There you are," he drawled, looking at them. "Were you two busy pigging out in the Great Hall? I was looking for you; I want to show you something funny." Looking at the glasses on Nightpaw's face, Icepaw asked him, "Why're you wearing glasses?"

"Um..." Nightpaw took the glasses off and answered, "I was...um...reading."

"Reading? I didn't know you could read." Icepaw glanced coldly at Sandthorn and sneered, "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"

Sandthorn looked outraged. "Mind your attitude, Malfoy. Show some respect towards a prefect!"

Icepaw just sneered at him and motioned for the Golden Trio toms to follow him. Nightpaw was about to say something apologetic to Sandthorn, but he caught himself just in time. If he apologized right there, Icepaw would suspect something. So he and Redpaw hurried after the British Shorthair, who was ranting as they turned into the next passage.

"That Thornsand Weasley-"

"Sandthorn," Redpaw corrected him.

Icepaw replied, "Whatever. I've seen him sneaking around a lot lately. I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he'll catch Viper's Heir easily."

He gave a short disdainful laugh. Nightpaw and Redpaw exchanged excited looks before joining him in a pretend laugh.

Icepaw paused by a stretch of bare damp stone wall, turned to Nightpaw, and asked him, "What's the new password again?"

"Um..."

"Oh, yeah. Pure breed!" Icepaw shouted while not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. The British Shorthair marched through it, and the other two toms followed him inside.

The ViperClan camp room was a long low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, where round green lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an ornately carved ledge ahead of them, and several ViperClan cats were around it in high-backed chairs. There was a large glass window showing the place underneath the ocean; sharks and other deep-sea animals were drifting about lazily.

"Wait here," Icepaw told Nightpaw and Redpaw, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go and get it. Father just sent it to me."

Wondering what he was going to show them, Nightpaw and Redpaw sat down, doing their best to look at home.

Soon enough, he came back a minute later, holding the newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Redpaw's nose. "That'll give you a laugh," he purred.

Nightpaw saw Redpaw's "yellow" eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Nightpaw.

It had been clipped out of the Daily Seer, and it said:

_INQUIRY AT THE GOVERNMENT OF WARRIORISM_

_Weaseltail Weasley, Head of the Mistreatment of Twoleg Relic Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a red monster._

_Mr. Blizzardclaw Malfoy (a governor of the Forest, School of Warriorism), where the enchanted monster crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's dismissal. "Weasley has brought the Government into disgrace," Mr. Malfoy told the reporter. "He is clearly useless to draw up our laws. His ridiculous Kittypet Protection Act should be cancelled right now."_

_Mr. Weasley was absent for comment. But his mate told reporters to clear off or she would set the family Bigfoot on them._

"Well?" Icepaw mewed edgily as Nightpaw handed the clipping back to him. "Is that funny or what?"

Nightpaw and Redpaw exchanged looks, trying to hide their disbelief. But they did smile weakly to fool him; thankfully, that seemed to convince Icepaw.

"That Weaseltail Weasley loves kittypets so much he should throw his tail-wand away and go live with them," he sneered scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure breeds, the way they behave."

Redpaw's, or Lobsterpaw's, face was twisted with fury. Nightpaw could see his claws unsheathe at the scorn in Icepaw's voice.

Icepaw glared at Redpaw. "What's wrong with you, Lobsterpaw?"

Redpaw cleared his throat. "Bellyache."

"Well, get to the medicine den and give those filthy kittybloods a beating for me," Icepaw meowed, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Seer hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on. "I suppose Silverstar's trying to quiet it down. He'll be fired if it doesn't stop soon. But don't get me wrong; that fool loves kittypets. A decent leader would never let slime like that Creevey in."

Nightpaw frowned at this. He wondered what Fawnpaw would say if SHE heard this.

Then Icepaw started taking pictures with a pretend camera and did a cruel but very precise imitation of Mousepaw: "'Potter, can I have your photo? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your tail, Potter?"'

He dropped his paws and looked at Nightpaw and Redpaw, who were frowning at him. "What is the matter with you two?"

Far too late, the two toms forced themselves to laugh, but Icepaw seemed happy. Perhaps Lobsterpaw and Monkeypaw were always slow on the uptake.

"You see?" Icepaw went on with a sneer. "Father always said Silverstar was the worst thing that's ever happened to the Forest. And he's right!"

"You're wrong!"

Nightpaw quickly shut his mouth tight while Redpaw looked at him in horror. He hadn't meant to say it out loud; he was furious that Icepaw was making this kind of garbage up. But right now, Icepaw was glaring angrily at him.

The dark silver tabby hissed, "What? You think there's someone worse than Silverstar? Well? Do you?"

Nightpaw retraced his steps. "Um...Nightpaw Potter?"

"Good one, Monkeypaw! Absolutely right!" Icepaw praised him. He added with a sneer, ""Saint Potter, the kittybloods' friend. He's another one with no proper warrior feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that idiot Granger kittyblood. And cats think _he's_ the Heir of Viper!"

Nightpaw and Redpaw waited with bated breath, their tail twitching back and forth. Icepaw was surely seconds away from telling them it was him. But then...

"I _wish_ I knew who it is," Icepaw meowed huffily. "Then I could help them."

Redpaw's jaw dropped so that Lobsterpaw looked even more ignorant than usual. Fortunately, Icepaw didn't notice, and Nightpaw, thinking fast, asked him, "Surely, you must have some idea who's behind it all?"

Icepaw snapped, "You know I haven't, Monkeypaw. How many times do I have to tell you? My father did say this: it's been fifty years since the Cavern opened. He wouldn't tell me who opened it, only that they were exiled. The last time the Cavern of Secrets was opened, a kittyblood died. So it's soon before one of them is killed this time. As for me..." he added with relish, "...I hope it's Granger this time."

Redpaw quickly got up and stalking towards Icepaw, his face filled with rage. Feeling this was a giveaway if he clawed Icepaw, Nightpaw held him back; he was furious too, yet this was no time for a fight. But Icepaw looked suspicious once again.

"Seriously? What's wrong?"

"His bellyache," Nightpaw explained. "It makes him angry. But anyways, do you know if the one who opened the Cavern was caught?"

Icepaw nodded. ""Oh, yeah. Whoever it was got their ass exiled. They're probably still in Alcatraz."

"Alcatraz?" Nightpaw asked, puzzled. When did that prison from California become a prison for cats?

"Yes, Alcatraz. The warrior prison, Goyle," Icepaw retorted, looking at him in disbelief. "Really, if you were slower, you'd be walking backwards."

He shifted edgily in his chair and growled, "Father says to keep my head down and let Viper's Heir get down to the nitty-gritty. He says the school needs all kittypet-born cats to be killed, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his dish at the moment. Did you know the Government raided our mansion last quarter-moon?"

Nightpaw tried hard to force Monkeypaw's dull face into a look of concern. "Really?"

"Yeah," the British Shorthair replied. "Fortunately, they didn't find much. Father's got some very prized Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret cavity under the living-room floor."

"Psst!"

Icepaw looked over at Redpaw. So did Nightpaw. But he didn't have much time to say, for Redpaw dragged him back towards the entrance of the camp room.

"...scar..." Redpaw rasped, pointing at Nightpaw's head.

"...fur..." Nightpaw rasped back, pointing at Redpaw's pelt.

Redpaw's cheeks were turning red...and so was his fur. His large weight was diminishing and his ears were getting longer. Their hour was up. Redpaw was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Nightpaw, he must be, too.

They both jumped to their paws, making Icepaw give them confused looks.

"Medicine for my belly," Redpaw grunted.

Without further ado, they sprinted through the length of the ViperClan room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the hallway, hoping Icepaw didn't notice anything. Nightpaw could feel his fur getting long and silky again, and he had to hoist up his cape as his size shrank and his height grew.

They crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muted pounding from the closet where they locked Icepaw's friends. It seemed those two were awake at last, but they couldn't get out. Marking the nearby scent with the borrowed capes, they sprinted up the limestone staircase toward Carping Turtleneck's restroom.

"Well, that wasn't a waste of time," Redpaw panted, closing the restroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, true. But I'll write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' living room."

Nightpaw checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal; his dark fur had been changed back to black, his eyes had turned back to green, and he had his tall and slender form back. He groomed himself quickly while Redpaw knocked on the door of Fawnpaw's stall.

"Fawnpaw, come out here! We've got lots to tell you!"

"Go away!"

Nightpaw and Redpaw looked at each other with confusion.

"What's wrong here?" the American Shorthair asked her. "You must be back to normal by now. We are."

But Carping Turtleneck glided suddenly through the stall door, a big grin on her face. Nightpaw had never seen her looking so happy. "Ooh, wait till you see," she squealed. "It's _awful_!"

They heard the lock slide back and Fawnpaw finally emerged, sobbing. Her cape was pulled up over her head and she wasn't willing to show them.

Uncertainly, Redpaw asked her, "What the hell is going on? You got Boulderpaw's nose or something?"

Finally, Fawnpaw let her cape fall. But what Nightpaw and Redpaw saw made them back into the sink with shock.

The Angora she-cat was covered in black fur and there were sensitive whiskers on her newly narrow face. Her eyes had turned small and beady, and there were small rounded ears poking through her head fur. She also had a long bald tail in replacement of her normal bushy tail.

"It was a r-rat hair," she croaked. "B-Boulderpaw m-must have had a rat. This p-potion isn't supposed to be used for other animal transformations."

"Oh shit," Redpaw gasped.

"Oh, you'll be teased so dreadfully," Turtleneck squealed gleefully.

Nightpaw turned to glare at her before turning back to Fawnpaw. "It'll be okay, Fawnpaw. Let's just get you to the medicine cat den. Poppyleaf doesn't ask too much questions."

It didn't take too long to persuade the light brown tabby she-cat to come out of the stall. Then they were seen out by Carping Turtleneck, who was cackling at Fawnpaw for everyone to see her "new" tail.

Fawnpaw was shaking her head, "I-I can't believe it. Look at my face."

Redpaw couldn't help but joke, "Look at your tail!"

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: My sister's fiancé really got on my nerves some time ago. He guilt-tripped me into doing chores, saying HE does all of them. But I DO some chores around here!**

**Katara: (Hugs AvatarCat11) Shhh... It's okay. I'm sure it's just a phase.**

**Holly: (Also hugs him tight) Besides, you told your mom about him. Maybe she'll knock some sense into him?**

**AvatarCat11: (Smiles weakly at them) Thanks, you two. You two are the best. (Kisses them on the cheek each) Sorry.**

**Holly: It's okay, AvatarCat. We're used to it.**

**Katara: And let us say the review thing this time.**

**Holly: (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this chapter will receive a plush doll of any character in their cat form they've seen so far.**

**AvatarCat11, Katara, and Holly: See ya next time!**


	13. The Very Cryptic Journal

**AvatarCat11: (With Harry sitting next to him) You're wondering why Katara and Holly aren't here right now. Well, they decided to take a break for a while. So Harry and his friends will be coming around here, one chapter at a time.**

**Harry: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and I've been reading this series so far. We even watched the movies to see what they were like. So you've added some scenes from the movies?**

**AvatarCat11: (Proudly) Yep. I'm staying with the books, but I'm adding parts from the movies.**

**Harry: That's nice to know. Now if you'd like, could I say the disclaimer?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure.**

**Harry: Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: Erin Hunter and J.K. Rowling own Warrior Cats and Harry Potter, not AvatarCat11. He doesn't even want to.**

**Updating Date: December 2, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Harry: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Very Cryptic Journal_

Fawnpaw remained in the medicine den for a half-moon. There was a flood of rumor about her departure when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas vacation, for everyone thought she was attacked. So many cats filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Poppyleaf took out her curtains again and placed them around Fawnpaw's nest, to spare her the shame of being seen with a rat face.

Nightpaw and Redpaw went to visit her every evening; thanks to everyone being scared of the black cat, Fawnpaw was spared from her shame. When the new term started, they broughther each day's homework.

On the way up, Redpaw had asked Nightpaw, "Have you tried talking to Fawnpaw?"

"No. But she'll be out soon…once she stops chewing on wood," Nightpaw chuckled.

Finally, they had reached Fawnpaw at the medicine den, where they gave her the books she needed for homework. The Angora mix gave them a grateful nod when they leaped up onto the nest next to her.

"If I'd sprouted a naked tail, I'd take a break," Redpaw meowed, tipping books onto Fawnpaw's bedside table one evening.

"Are you kidding me, Redpaw? I've got to keep up," Fawnpaw retorted briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the black fur was slowly changing to light brown and her eyes were turning slowly from black and beady to wide and orange. In a low whisper so that Poppyleaf wouldn't hear, she added, "I don't suppose you've got any new leads?"

Nightpaw shook his head. "No."

Redpaw muttered for around the tenth time, "I was so sure it was Icepaw."

"What's that?" Nightpaw asked Fawnpaw. There was something gold sticking out from under her sheets.

Trying to poke it out of sight, Fawnpaw replied, "Um, nothing. It's just a get-well card."

But Redpaw was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud: "To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned mentor, Gloryhound Lockhart, Order of Thunder, Third Class, Voluntary Member of the Dark Side Defense League, and five-time winner of Warrior Weekly's Most Attractive Smile Award."

The American Shorthair tom looked up at Fawnpaw, disgusted. "Seriously? You're sleeping with this under your pillow?"

"No!" Fawnpaw retorted. But she was spared from more answering by Poppyleaf sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

As they left the medical den and started up the stairs toward LionClan Tower, Redpaw turned to Nightpaw and asked him, "Isn't that Gloryhound the oiliest guy you've ever met?"

Brokenfang had given them so much homework, and Nightpaw thought he would be in the sixth year before he finished it. Redpaw was just saying he wished he had asked Fawnpaw how many mouse tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Raising Potion when he stopped. An angry shout from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Oscar," Nightpaw muttered. The two cats hurried up the stairs and paused, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" Redpaw mewed.

They stood still, their heads inclined toward Oscar's voice, which sounded quite hysterical. He just sounded more frustrated than upset.

"Even more work! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No! This is the final straw! I'm going to Silverstar!"

His pawsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam. The dark brown tom didn't come back after that.

They poked their heads around the corner. Oscar had clearly been patrolling his usual lookout post. They were once again on the spot where Mr. Sniffer was attacked. Nightpaw and Redpaw saw at a glance what Oscar had been shouting about: a great flood of water stretched over half the corridor. It looked as if it was still dribbling from under the door of Carping Turtleneck's bathroom. Now that Oscar stopped shouting, they could hear Turtleneck's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"_Now_ what's wrong with her?" Redpaw muttered, rolling his eyes.

Nightpaw shrugged. "Who knows? Let's go in and see."

Holding their tails high over the floor, they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER sign. As usual, the two toms ignored the sign and entered.

Carping Turtleneck was bawling, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual latrine. It was very dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet. This mess was indeed caused by the pessimistic ghost.

"What's up?" Nightpaw asked her when they got in.

Turtleneck looked over her shoulder to see him. She whimpered, "Come to throw something else at me?"

Nightpaw mewed, "Now why would I want to throw a book at you?"

"Don't ask me," Turtleneck told him, shrugging her shoulders, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, just minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."

Redpaw meowed reasonably, "But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you. I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

He had just meowed the wrong thing. Turtleneck puffed herself up, flew right down at them, and shrieked, "Rowr! Let's all throw books at Turtleneck, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her chest!" She poked Redpaw through the chest before going on, "Fifty points if it goes through her head!" She finished this by poking the ginger tom through the head.

"Do you know who threw the book at you?" Nightpaw asked her, trying to change the subject.

"I don't know," Turtleneck replied, relaxing. "I was just sitting in my U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head. It's over by that sink."

Nightpaw and Redpaw looked over to where she was pointing her tail. A small thin book was just lying there. It had a shabby black cover, and it was as wet as everything else in the lavatory. Nightpaw stepped forward to pick it up, but Redpaw suddenly flung out a forepaw to hold him back.

"What?" Nightpaw asked him.

"You have bees in your brain?" Redpaw asked him in disbelief. "It could be dangerous."

Hearing this, Nightpaw began laughing. "Dangerous? Are you shitting me? How can a book be dangerous?"

Redpaw looked at the book with suspicion. "Oh, you'd be surprised. Some of the books that the Government removed Dad's told me...there's a lot. There was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Poems Of A Patriot spoke in patriotic poems forever. And some old she-cat in Texas had a book you could never stop reading! You had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything with paws instead of jaws. And-"

"I get it. I get it," Nightpaw retorted, rolling his green eyes.

The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy. It was just lying there, perhaps dying to be read.

"Well, we won't find out unless we look at it," Nightpaw meowed. He padded around Redpaw and picked it up off the floor.

At once, Nightpaw saw that it was a journal, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old, in around the sixties. He opened it eagerly and looked inside. On the first page, he could just figure out the name "P. Riddle" in smudged ink.

"Hang on," Redpaw meowed, who arrived cautiously and looked over Nightpaw's shoulder. "I know that name. P. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

Nightpaw turned to face him, shocked. "How'd you know that?"

Redpaw flinched. "Oscar made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention. That was the one I belched slugs all over. You'd remember if you cleaned a trophy up for an hour."

Nightpaw nodded before peeling the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even anyone's birthday, or _Vet Appointment half-past three_.

"He never wrote in it," Nightpaw sighed, disappointed.

"Why would anyone wanted to flush it away?" Redpaw meowed, tilting his head to one side.

Nightpaw turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store. The store was said to be on Eastern Northern Lights Boulevard, Anchorage.

The young black cat looked down eagerly. "He must've been a kittypet. To have bought a journal at Anchorage."

Redpaw shrugged. "Well, it's not much use, then." He lowered his voice and chuckled, "Fifty points if you can get it through Turtleneck's nose."

Nightpaw didn't throw it at Turtleneck, however. Instead, he put the journal in his bag.

**...**

At last, Fawnpaw left the medicine den at the beginning of February; her light brown tabby fur had grown back, her eyes were fully orange again, and the fur on her tail grew back. On her first evening back in LionClan Tower, Nightpaw showed her Riddle's journal and told her the story of how they had found it.

"Great StarClan! It might have hidden powers!" Fawnpaw purred happily, taking the journal and looking at it closely.

Redpaw meowed, "If it has, it's hiding them well. Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't want to throw it away, Nightpaw."

"I wish I knew why someone _did_ try to throw it away," Nightpaw replied. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to the Forest either."

"Could've been anything," Redpaw insisted. "Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a mentor from the sperm whale. Maybe he murdered Turtleneck. That would've done everyone a favor."

But Nightpaw could tell from the arrested look on Fawnpaw's face that she was thinking what he was thinking. She didn't complain about him thankful that someone was dead.

"What?" Redpaw asked, looking from one to the other. "Did I say something bad?"

"Well, the Cavern of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" Nightpaw told him. "That's what Icepaw said."

The ginger tom nodded slowly.

"And this journal is fifty years old," Fawnpaw added, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

Fawnpaw sighed. "Redpaw, you mouse-brain. Sit down before you hurt yourself. We know the cat who opened the Cavern last time was exiled fifty years ago. Anyways, we know Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. What if Riddle got his special award for catching the Viper's Heir? His journal can tell us everything: where the Cavern is, how to open it, and what creature lives in it. The cat behind the attacks this time won't want that lying around, would they?"

Redpaw meowed to her sarcastically, "That's a brilliant theory, Fawnpaw. But there's just this one teeny little problem. There's nothing written. In. His. Journal."

But Fawnpaw pulled her tail-wand out of her bag and put it on her tail. "It might have some invisible ink!" she whispered. She tapped the journal three times and meowed, "_Aparecium!_"

Nothing happened. Undaunted, the light brown tabby she-cat shoved her paw back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser. They were the items Twolegs used to erase something off of papers.

"It's a Revealer. I got it in Dragon Alley," Fawnpaw explained, seeing the confusion of the toms' faces. She rubbed hard on the word January first. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you already. There's nothing in there," Redpaw growled. "Riddle just got a journal for Christmas and didn't want to it in."

But Nightpaw couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw Riddle's journal away. The fact was that even though he knew it was blank, he kept idly picking it up and turning the pages, as if it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Nightpaw was sure he had never heard the name P. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, like Riddle was a friend he had when he was a kit. But this was absurd. He never had friends before the Forest; Tubby made sure he didn't have any friends.

Nevertheless, Nightpaw was determined to find out more about Riddle, so the next dawn, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's special award. He was escorted by an interested Fawnpaw and an unconvinced Redpaw, who told them he saw enough of the trophy room to last him a lifetime.

Riddle's glossy gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it was given to him. "Good thing, or it'd be bigger and I'd still be shining it," Redpaw muttered. However, they did find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Warrior Pride and on a list of old Head Cats.

"He sounds like Sandthorn," Redpaw hissed, curling his lip in disgust. "Prefect, Head Cat. Probably top of every class..."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Fawnpaw mewed in a slightly miffed voice.

**...**

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on the Forest again after moons of darkness. Inside the castle, the mood grew more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Finchpaw and Headlesshead Nick, and Poppyleaf was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive. That meant they were fast in leaving their childhood.

"The moment their spots clear up, they'll be ready for replanting once again," Nightpaw heard her telling Oscar kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mr. Sniffer back very soon."

Perhaps Viper's Heir had lost his or her nerve, Nightpaw thought. It must be getting riskier and even more risky to open the Cavern of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever or whoever it was, was even now settling itself down to hide for another fifty years.

Birchpaw Macmillan of BadgerClan didn't take this cheerful view. Scared that Nightpaw wasn't exiled, he was still convinced that the black cat was guilty, how he had "given himself away" at the Fighting Guild. The Joker wasn't helping matters either; he kept popping up in the crowded hallways singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter" now with a dance routine to match.

Gloryhound Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Nightpaw overheard him telling an irritated Thistleheart so while LionClan cats were lining up for Transfiguration. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble," he was mewing, patting his nose shrewdly and winking. "I think the Cavern's locked for good this time. The wrongdoer must have known it was only soon before I caught him. He seemed rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

Nightpaw swore that Thistleheart had sworn under her breath.

"You know what the school needs now?" Gloryhound meowed. "A morale-booster. You know, wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I got just the thing."

He tapped his nose again and strode off.

**...**

Gloryhound's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Nightpaw hadn't had so much sleep because of a late-running AirBall practice last night, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he padded through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large vivid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling, ruining the natural feeling. Nightpaw stalked to the LionClan table, where Redpaw was sitting looking sickened. Fawnpaw, however and strangely, seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

"What's going on?" Nightpaw asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off his boar bacon.

Redpaw pointed to the mentors' table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Gloryhound, wearing a garish pink cape to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The mentors on either side of him were looking grave. From where he sat, Nightpaw could see a muscle going on in Thistleheart's cheek. Brokenfang looked as if someone fed him a large cup of Bone Grow.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Gloryhound cheered. "And may I thank the forty-six cats who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all...and the fun doesn't end here!"

Gloryhound clapped his forepaws together, and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking rabbits. Not just any rabbits, however. Gloryhound had made them all wear golden wings and carry harps.

"My kindly card-carrying cupids!" the cream-furred Cornish Rex cheered. "They will be roaming around the school today delivering your valentines! And it doesn't stop here! I'm sure my equals will want to enter into the spirit of valentines! Why not ask Brokenfang to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And Shortlegs knows more about Captivating Charms than any cat I've met, the sly dog!"

Shortlegs looked shamed as he laid down and covered his eyes with his paws. But Brokenfang looked as if the first cat to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

"Fawnpaw, for all things all great and small, PLEASE tell me you weren't one of the forty-six," Redpaw moaned as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson.

But Fawnpaw started searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.

All day long, the rabbits kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the mentors. Late that afternoon, as the LionClan cats were padding upstairs for Charms, one of the rabbits caught up to Nightpaw.

"Oi, you! Black cat!" a grumpy black-&-white rabbit called. He started shoving cats out of the way to get to Nightpaw.

Mortified at the thought of being given a valentine in front of first year cats, which one happened to include Leafpaw, Nightpaw tried to escape. The rabbit, however, crossed his way through the crowd by biting cats' paws and reached him before he had gone two paces. Now there was no way to escape this rabbit for now.

The rabbit waved his harp in a menacing way as it said, "I've got a musical message to deliver to Nightpaw Potter in person."

Nightpaw shook his head, backing away to make his escape.

"Stay still!" the rabbit grunted, seizing Nightpaw's bag with his buckteeth and pulling him back.

"Let go!" Nightpaw spat, pulling the hardest he could.

With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, tail-wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything. This was one mess that would have difficulty in cleaning up.

Nightpaw scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing. However, this caused something of a holdup in the corridor.

"What's going on here?" the cold drawling voice of Icepaw meowed. Nightpaw started stuffing everything agitatedly into his ripped bag, desperate to get away before Icepaw could hear his musical valentine. But another voice, yet less annoying, had arrived.

"What's all this commotion about?" Sandthorn's voice meowed as he arrived.

Losing his head, Nightpaw tried to make a run for it. But the rabbit leaped heavily onto his back, nearly crushing it, and brought him crashing to the floor. He was now pinned down on his belly to the ground while other cats were watching.

"Right," the rabbit said, sitting on Nightpaw's back. "Here is your singing valentine." He cleared his throat and sang like a baritone.

_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_His hair is as dark as a raven's glare._

_I wish he was mine,__he's really divine,_

_The hero who conquered the Dark Bear._

Nightpaw would have given all the gold in Liverpool to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his back aching from the weight of the rabbit. And just in time, Sandthorn did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go! The bell rang five minutes ago! Off to class now!" he called, shooing some of the younger cats away. "And as for you, Malfoy-"

Nightpaw, glancing over, saw Icepaw bend his head low and snatch up something. Leering, the black-&-silver tabby tom showed it to Lobsterpaw and Monkeypaw, and Nightpaw saw he had snatched up Riddle's journal.

"Give it back," the Maine Coon mix meowed quietly.

"Wonder what Potter wrote in this?" Icepaw sneered.

He obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Nightpaw's own journal. A hush fell over the onlookers as they looked from cat to cat. Leafpaw was staring from the journal to Nightpaw, looking terrified.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," Sandthorn told him sternly.

Waving the book mockingly in front of Nightpaw, Icepaw sneered, "After I look in it."

Sandthorn started saying, "As a school prefect-" but Nightpaw had lost his temper.

He pulled out his tail-wand, pointed it at the book, and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" And just as Brokenfang had disarmed Gloryhound, Icepaw found the diary shooting out of his jaws into the air. Redpaw, grinning broadly, leaped into the air and caught it with his jaws.

"Nightpaw!" Sandthorn gasped with shock. "No magic allowed in the corridors! I'm going to have to report this, you know!"

But Nightpaw, for the first time, didn't care. He was one-on-one with Icepaw and that was worth five points from LionClan any day. Icepaw looked furious, and as Leafpaw passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled cruelly after her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine!"

Leafpaw stared at him, horror and shock in her brown eyes. Then, with tears, streaming down her face, the young ginger she-cat ran into class. Snarling, Redpaw raised his tail-wand and stalked towards the British Shorthair, but Nightpaw pulled him away. His friend didn't need to spend the whole of Charms class belching slugs.

It wasn't until they had reached Shortlegs' class that Nightpaw noticed something rather odd about Riddle's journal. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He tried to point this out to Redpaw, but the American Shorthair was having trouble with his tail-wand again. Large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and he wasn't interested in anything else.

**...**

Nightpaw went to get to sleep before anyone else in his dorm that night. This was partly because he didn't want to hear Berrytail and Cherrynose singing, "_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad_" one more time, and partly because he wanted to examine Riddle's journal again. He knew Redpaw thought he was wasting his time.

The British Shorthair mix sat on his four-poster nest and flicked through the blank pages. Not one page had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.

The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as if it was sucked into the page, it vanished. Excited, Nightpaw loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, _"My name is Nightpaw Potter."_

The words shone briefly on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened. Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Nightpaw had never written.

_"__Hello, Nightpaw. My name is Pantherclaw Riddle. How did you find my journal?"_

These words, too, faded away, but not before Nightpaw wrote back. _"__Someone tried to drown it in a restroom."_

He waited eagerly for a reply.

_"__Lucky I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew there would be those who would not want this journal read."_

_"__What do you mean?"_ Nightpaw scribbled, blotting the page in his excitement.

_"__I mean this journal holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at the Forest, School of Warriorism, moons ago."_

Nightpaw wrote, _"__That's where I am now. I'm at the Forest and awful stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Cavern of Secrets?"_

His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as if he was hurrying to tell all he knew. The next answer was... _"Yes."_

Nightpaw wrote back, _"Can you tell me?"_

But the next answer after that was... _"No."_

However, as Nightpaw huffed with displeasure, the writing quickly became: _"But since you're very interested, I guess I can tell you. In my day, they told us it was a legend; it did not exist. But it was a lie. In my fifth year, the Cavern was opened and the monster attacked several cats, at last killing one. I caught the cat who opened the Cavern and he was exiled. But the leader, Russetstar Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Forest, told me to not tell the truth. A story was given out that the she-cat had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice shiny engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to be silent. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not confined."_

Nightpaw almost tipped over his ink bottle in his hurry to write back, _"__It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one knows who's behind them. Who was it last time?"_

_"__I can show you,"_ Riddle replied. _"You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him."_

Nightpaw hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary and his tail quivering. What in StarClan did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dorm, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the journal, he saw fresh words forming.

_"__Let me show you."_

Nightpaw paused for a second, and then he wrote two letters.

_OK._

The pages of the journal began to blow as if they were caught in the wind, stopping midway through the moon of June. Mouth hanging open, Nightpaw suddenly saw that the square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a small Twoleg glowing box. His paws trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what happened, he was tilting forward. The window was widening, he felt his body leave the nest, and he was tossed headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.

He felt his paws hit solid ground, and he stood, shaking. The indistinct shapes around him came suddenly into focus.

He knew at once where he was. This circular room with the sleeping pictures was Silverstar's office...but it wasn't Silverstar sitting behind the desk. An aged frail-looking tomcat, fox-furred all over except for white hairs on his muzzle, was reading a letter by candlelight. Nightpaw had never seen this man before.

"My bad," he mewed shakily. "I didn't mean to butt in."

But the cat didn't look up. He continued to read, frowning slightly. Nightpaw padded nearer to his desk and stuttered, "Um...I'll just go, okay?"

Still, the warrior cat paid no attention. He didn't seem even to have heard him. Thinking that the warrior was deaf, Nightpaw raised his voice.

"Sorry I disturbed you. I'll go now!" he half-shouted.

The cat folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, padded past Nightpaw without glancing at him, and went to draw the curtains at his window. The sky outside was orange-red; it seemed to be sundown. The warrior padded back to the desk, sat down, and jerked his whiskers, watching the door.

Nightpaw looked around the office, amazed by the changes. There was no Roku the Phoenix, no buzzing silver devices, no anything else. This was the Forest that Riddle went to, meaning that this unknown warrior cat was the leader, not Silverstar. And he, Nightpaw, was little more than a ghost, completely invisible to the cats of fifty years ago.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," the fox-furred tom rasped in a feeble voice.

A tomcat of sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat. A silver prefect's badge was glinting on his chest and he stood tall. He was much taller than Nightpaw, but he, too, had jet-black fur. He also had bright orange eyes and a stumpy tail.

"Ah, Pantherclaw," the leader sighed with relief.

"You wanted to see me, Russetstar, sir?" Pantherclaw meowed in a smooth voice. He looked quite nervous.

Russetstar flicked a thin tail towards a chair. "Have a seat, please. I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

Pantherclaw nodded and sat down. He was unsheathing his claws until they hung to the chair.

"My dear boy," Russetstar rasped kindly, "I cannot let you stay at school over greenleaf. Surely you want to go home for vacation?"

"No," Pantherclaw meowed right away; there was no hesitation in his voice. "I'd rather stay at the Forest than go back to that...that..."

"You live in an animal shelter during the holidays, yes?" Russetstar mewed curiously.

"Yes, sir," Pantherclaw replied , reddening slightly.

Russetstar tilted his head sideways. "Are you kittypet-born?"

"Half-breed, sir," the black tom replied. "My father was a Manx kittypet, and my mother was a British Shorthair warrior."

"And are both your parents...?"

Pantherclaw sighed. "My mother died giving birth to me, sir, and I have no idea about my father. They told me at the shelter my mother lived just long enough to name me...Panther, after my father. She also said that if I became a wildcat, I would be called Pantherclaw after my grandfather, Darkclaw."

Russetstar's old orange eyes widened with sympathy. He sighed, "The thing is, young tom, special measures might have been made for you. But in the current conditions..."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" Pantherclaw gasped. Nightpaw's heart leapt, and he moved closer, scared of missing anything.

"Exactly," the old leader replied. "You must see how foolish it would be of me to let you stay at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... The death of the poor little she-cat... You will be safer by far at your shelter. Actually, the Government of Warriorism is even talking about closing the school. We are no near locating the...source of all this nastiness."

Pantherclaw's eyes had widened. "Sir, if this culprit was caught...if it all stopped..."

"What do you mean?" Russetstar asked in surprise, sitting up in his chair. "Riddle, do you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," Pantherclaw meowed quickly. But Nightpaw was sure it was the same sort of "no" that he had given to Silverstar.

Russetstar sank back, looking faintly disappointed. "You may go."

Pantherclaw nodded, leaped off his chair, and slouched out of the room. Nightpaw followed him, not wanting to miss what would happen next.

Down the moving spiral staircase they went, emerging next to the gargoyle in the dimming hall. Pantherclaw stopped, and so did Nightpaw, watching him. The young black tom could tell that Pantherclaw was doing some serious thinking. He was biting his lip, his forehead furrowed.

Then, as if he had suddenly reached a decision, he hurried off, Nightpaw gliding quietly behind him. They didn't see another cat until they reached the entrance hall, when a tall warrior cat with a flat face and silver tabby fur with red patches called to Pantherclaw from the marble staircase.

"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Pantherclaw?"

Shocked, Nightpaw just gaped at the Persian warrior cat. This cat was none other than a fifty-year-younger Silverstar.

"I was going to see the leader, Silverflame," Pantherclaw told him.

Silverflame gave him the same piercing look Nightpaw knew so well. "Well, hurry off to your nest. It's best not to roam the halls these days. Not since..."

He sighed heavily, bade Pantherclaw good night, and strode off. The black cat watched him walk out of sight and then, moving fast, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Nightpaw in hot pursuit. Nightpaw had no idea where they were going, but he was sure this was part of the tour Riddle was giving him.

But to his disappointment, Pantherclaw led him not into a hidden walkway or a secret tunnel, but to the very dungeon in which Nightpaw had Potions with Brokenfang. The torches hadn't been lit, and when Pantherclaw pushed the door almost closed, Nightpaw could only see him, standing stock-still by the door. Right now, the older black cat was watching the passage outside.

It felt to Nightpaw that they were there for at least an hour. All he could see was the figure of Pantherclaw at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. And just when Nightpaw had stopped feeling eager and tense and started wishing he could go back, he heard something move beyond the door.

Someone was creeping along the passage. He heard whoever it was pass the dungeon where he and Pantherclaw were hidden. Riddle, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Nightpaw tiptoeing behind him and forgetting he couldn't be heard. Pantherclaw's orange eyes were narrowed and he was sniffing the air, smelling whoever came in.

For five minutes they followed the footsteps, until Pantherclaw stopped, his head inclined in the direction of new noises. Nightpaw heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.

"C'mon. We gotta get yeh outta here. C'mon now...in the box."

There was something familiar about that voice...

_Badgerstripe?_

Pantherclaw suddenly jumped around the corner. Nightpaw stepped out behind him. He could see the dark outline of a huge cat around the size of a puma who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.

"Good evening, Badgerstripe," Pantherclaw hissed sharply.

Badgerstripe slammed the door shut and stood up. "What yer doin' down here?"

Pantherclaw stalked closer. He hissed with a bit of a sneer, "It's all over. I'm turning you in. They're talking about closing the Forest if the attacks don't stop."

"No! I didn-"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone," Pantherclaw retorted as if he didn't believe him. "But monsters don't make good pets, do they. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and-"

"He didn' kill no one! Never!" the big black cat shouted, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Nightpaw could hear a funny rustling and clicking.

"Come with me, Badgerstripe," Pantherclaw growled, moving closer. "The murdered she-cat's parents will be here tomorrow. The least the Forest can do is to make sure the thing that killed their daughter is slain."

Badgerstripe roared, his voice echoing through the room, "It wasn't him! He wouldn'! He'd never do it!"

Pantherclaw unsheathed his claws. "Stand aside."

He flicked his tail-wand around, lighting the corridor with a flaming light. The door behind the large tom flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out of it came something that made Nightpaw let out a piercing screech ignored by anyone.

"Badgerstripe!" Nightpaw shouted, fearing for his friend's safety.

A vast low body and a tangle of brown legs; a gleam of beady eyes and razor-sharp pincers...that was what came out. Pantherclaw raised his tail-wand again, but he was too late. The weird thing knocked him over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. The smaller black cat scrambled to his paws, glaring after it. He raised his tail-wand, but Badgerstripe leapt on him, seized his tail, and threw him back down.

"NOOOOOO!" he roared as he and Pantherclaw fought, tooth and claw.

"BADGERSTRIPE!"

The scene whirled, and the darkness became complete. Nightpaw felt himself falling and, with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his four-poster in the LionClan dorm. Pantherclaw's journal was lying open on his stomach.

Before he had time to regain his breath, the dorm door opened and Redpaw came in.

"There you are, buddy," he meowed. "I was wondering if you were okay."

Nightpaw sat up, shaking. He tried hard to gain his breath, but what he saw took his breath away again.

Redpaw looked over at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Nightpaw? What's up?"

"It was Badgerstripe, Redpaw. He opened the Cavern of Secrets fifty years ago."

_To be continued..._

**...**

**Harry: I'd like to ask you this. Are you happy The Forgotten Warrior came out?**

**AvatarCat11: You bet! Did you get it the day it came out?**

**Harry: (Holds said book up) Yeah. And I'm glad Hollyleaf's back. You know, if she were human, she and I would be twins.**

**AvatarCat11: You're right. Harry. You both have black hair and green eyes. But anyways, you wanna say the review thing?**

**Harry: Well...sure. (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this chapter will receive virtual plush dolls of either Hollyleaf or Sol. Those who want to flame it...we'll use those flames to burn Voldemort's old trophy and awards. And constructive criticism is allowed, but don't make it too hard.**

**AvatarCat11 and Harry: See ya next time!**


	14. Fudgepelt Fudge

**AvatarCat11: I know I already updated another chapter of this a few days ago, but I'd like to get to the other stories quickly.**

**Hermione: And when does Nightpaw get his warrior name?**

**AvatarCat11: It's a surprise. If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, right?**

**Hermione: Okay. (Turning to the readers) And any of you wondering why I'm nervous right now is that this is the chapter when...I'll let you figure it out. First, I'll say this here chapter's disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter own all rights to Harry Potter and Warrior Cats. AvatarCat11 is altering some of that for your entertainment. But he doesn't own those two.**

**Updating Date: December 7, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Fudgepelt Fudge_

The Golden Trio always knew that Badgerstripe had an unhealthy liking for large and monstrous animals. During their first year at the Forest, he tried to raise a griffin in his wooden hut, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant three-headed dragon he named "Flopsy." And if, as a kit, Badgerstripe had heard that a monster was hidden in the castle, Nightpaw was sure he would go to many lengths for a glimpse of it.

He would probably think it was a shame that the monster was cooped up so long and thought it needed to stretch its many legs. Nightpaw could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Badgerstripe fitting a leash and collar on it. But he was equally certain the gamekeeper would never mean to kill anybody.

Nightpaw half wished he never found out how to work Pantherclaw's journal. Again and again, Redpaw and Fawnpaw made him describe what he had seen. But now, he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long circular chats that followed.

"Pantherclaw might've got the wrong cat," Fawnpaw reasoned as the cats patrolled around the courtyard one afternoon. "Maybe it was another monster that was attacking cats."

"How many monsters do you think this castle can hold?" Redpaw asked dully.

"We always knew Badgerstripe was exiled," Nightpaw sighed sadly. "And the attacks must've stopped after he was kicked out. Otherwise, Pantherclaw wouldn't have got his award."

Redpaw tried a different tactic. "Pantherclaw sure sounds like Sandthorn. Who asked him to tell on Hagrid, anyway?"

Fawnpaw faced him with an upset look on her face. "But Redpaw, the monster _killed_ someone."

Nightpaw added, "And Pantherclaw was going to go back to some animal shelter if they closed the Forest. I don't blame him for wanting to stay here."

"You met Badgerstripe down Shadow Alley, didn't you?" Fawnpaw asked him. When he nodded, she asked him, "Well, what was he doing down there?"

"Buying a Flesh-Eating Snail Repellent," Nightpaw replied quickly. He didn't want to tell her how he had broken his tail.

The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Fawnpaw voiced the trickiest question of all in a hesitant voice. "Do you think we should go ask him about it? He IS our friend, after all."

"Oh, that'll be cheerful," Redpaw muttered sarcastically. "'Hey, Badgerstripe! By the way, have you set anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"

"Mad and hairy?" Badgerstripe's voice made them turn quickly around. The huge black cat had an amused look on his face as he added jokingly, "Yeh're not talkin' 'bout me, are yeh?"

All three shook their heads. Then Nightpaw pointed his muzzle to a container he was carrying around his neck and asked him, "What's that?"

Badgerstripe looked down at it and replied, "Oh, that. It's that Flesh-Eatin' Snail Repellant I was hopin' ter buy. Well, se yeh later!" At that, he turned around and trudged away from them.

In the end, they decided not to say anything to Badgerstripe unless there was another attack, and as more days went by with no trace of the ghostly voice, they became hopeful that they wouldn't talk to him about why he had been exiled. It was four moons since Finchpaw and Headlesshead Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had left for good. The Joker finally got bored of his "Oh Potter, you rotter" song, Birchpaw asked Nightpaw politely to pass a bucket of leaping mushrooms in Herbology one day, and in March, the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Sproutflower very happy.

"The moment they start moving into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature," she told Nightpaw one day. "Then we'll revive those poor cats in the medicine den."

The second year cats were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Fawnpaw, at least, took very seriously. In fact, she always took this seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," she told Nightpaw and Redpaw one day, as they looked over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

"I wish I could give up Potions," Nightpaw sighed.

"We can't," Redpaw replied gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I would've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Fawnpaw gasped, looking very shocked, "But that's important!"

Redpaw snorted with disbelief. "Not the way Gloryhound teaches it. I haven't learned anything new from him except not to set satyrs loose."

Toadpaw had been sent letters from all the warriors in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking cats whether they thought Arithmancy sounded tougher than the study of Ancient Runes. Cinderpaw, like Nightpaw, had grown up with kittypets; he ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his paw at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Fawnpaw didn't take anyone's advice at all, but she signed up for everything.

Nightpaw smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Bristle and Aunt Tulip would say if he tried to discuss his career in Warriorism with them. Daniel could help, he thought, but his Twoleg owner would have difficulty in understanding warrior classes. Not that he didn't get any guidance; Sandthorn was keen in sharing his experience.

"It depends on where you want to go," he meowed. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. Cats say Kittypet Studies is a soft option, but I think warrior cats should have full knowledge of the non-magical public, mainly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them. Look at my father: he has to deal with kittypet business all the time. My brother Clawfoot was always more of an outdoor type of feline, so he went for Treatment of Other Animals. Play to your strengths."

But the only thing Nightpaw felt he was really good at was AirBall. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Redpaw, feeling that if he was lousy at them, he would have someone friendly to help him.

**...**

LionClan's next AirBall match would be against BadgerClan.

Treebranch insisted on team practices every night after dinner, so Nightpaw barely had time for anything but AirBall and studying. However, the training sessions were getting better, and drier, and things would improve now that newleaf was here. The evening before Saturday's match, he went up to his dorm to drop off his wings, feeling LionClan's chances for the AirBall trophy had never felt even better.

But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dorm, he was greeted by Toadpaw, who was looking frantic.

"Nightpaw...I don't know who did it. I just found..."

Watching the Maine Coon/British Shorthair fearfully, Toadpaw pushed open the door.

The contents of Nightpaw's luggage had been thrown everywhere. His cape lay ripped on the floor. The blankets had been pulled off his four-poster nest, and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Nightpaw padded over to the nest, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Tigers. As he and Toadpaw pulled the blankets back onto his nest, Redpaw, Cinderpaw, and Sandpaw came in. Cinderpaw swore loudly.

"Damn. What happened, Nightpaw?"

"Heck if I know," Nightpaw replied.

But Redpaw was examining Nightpaw's cape, sniffing cautiously. All the pockets inside the inside of the cape were hanging out. "Someone was looking for something," he reported. "Is there anything missing?"

Nightpaw started to pick up all his things and throw them into his suitcase. It was only as he threw the last of the Gloryhound books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.

In an undertone so that only Redpaw could hear, Nightpaw rasped, "Pantherclaw's journal's gone missing."

"What?"

Nightpaw jerked his head toward the dorm door and Redpaw followed him out. They hurried down to the LionClan camp room, which was half-empty, and joined up with Fawnpaw. The Angora mix was sitting alone, reading a book called _Ancient Runes Made Easy_.

Fawnpaw looked aghast at the news when they told her. She gasped, "But...only a LionClan cat could have stolen... Nobody else knows our password!"

"Exactly," Nightpaw told her.

**...**

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light refreshing breeze. And it felt really good for one thing.

"Perfect AirBall settings!" Treebranch cheered actively at the LionClan table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs and mice. "Nightpaw, liven up there. You need a balanced breakfast." To the team, he called, "We play our game today. BadgerClan doesn't stand a chance against us. We're stronger, quicker and smarter than them."

"Not to mention they're scared of Nightpaw and he'd Petrify them if he got near them," Berrytail added.

Treebranch looked between Nightpaw and Berrytail before meowing, "Well...that too."

Nightpaw stared down the packed LionClan table, wondering if the new owner of Pantherclaw's journal was right in front of his eyes. Fawnpaw had urged him to report the theft, but Nightpaw didn't like the idea. He would have to tell a mentor all about the journal, and how many cats knew why Badgerstripe was exiled fifty years ago? He didn't want to be the one to bring it up once again.

As he left the Great Hall with his friends to go and get his AirBall things, another very serious worry was added to Nightpaw's growing list. He had just set paw on the sandstone stairs when he heard it yet again. It had been moons since he had heard the voice.

_"Kill this time... Let me rip... Tear..."_

Nightpaw gave a loud screech aloud, making Redpaw and Fawnpaw jump away from him in alarm.

"The voice!" Nightpaw gasped, looking over his shoulder. "I just heard it again! Didn't you?"

Redpaw shook his head, his blue eyes wide. Fawnpaw, however, stomped a forepaw onto the stairs.

"Nightpaw, I think I just learned something! I've got to get to the library!" And she sprinted away up the stairs in a hurry.

"What does she learn?" Nightpaw muttered distractedly. He was still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"A lot more than I do," Redpaw replied, shaking his head.

Nightpaw felt confused now. "But why does she need to go to the library?"

Redpaw shrugged. "That's what she does. When in doubt, go to the library."

Nightpaw just stood there, unsure, trying to catch the voice again. But cats were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the AirBall field.

"You better go," Redpaw meowed to Nightpaw, shoving him gently away. "It's nearly eleven. And good luck."

Nightpaw raced up to the LionClan Tower, collected his Icarus Three Thousand, and joined the large crowd teeming across the school grounds. But his mind was still in the castle along with the demon voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet cape in the locker room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game.

The teams prowled onto the field to boisterous applause. Treebranch took off for a preparation flight around the goal posts and Clearwing released the balls of AirBall. And the BadgerClan cats, who played in bumblebee yellow capes, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute chat of tactics.

Nightpaw was just clicking the wings to his back when Thistleheart came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying a huge purple megaphone around her neck. Nightpaw's heart dropped like a stone.

"This match is cancelled," Thistleheart called through the megaphone, speaking to the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts everywhere, but the deputy looked like she couldn't hear them. Treebranch, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Thistleheart without getting his wings off of his back.

"But we've got to play!" the Norwegian Forest Cat protested. "The trophy! LionClan!"

Thistleheart ignored him and continued calling through her megaphone: "All apprentices are to make their way back to the Clan camp rooms, where their Heads of Clans will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned her tail to Nightpaw over to her.

"Potter, I think you'd better come with me."

Wondering what she thought he did this time, Nightpaw saw Redpaw detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Nightpaw's surprise, Thistleheart didn't object or try to stop him.

Instead, she meowed, "Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley."

Some of the cats swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Nightpaw and Redpaw followed Thistleheart back into the school and up the sandstone staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's office this time.

"This will be a shock," Thistleheart rasped in an amazingly gentle voice as they approached the medicine den. "There has been another attack. A _double_ attack."

Nightpaw's internal organs did a horrible somersault. Thistleheart pushed the door open and he and Redpaw entered, exchanging worried glances. Poppyleaf was bending over a fifth-year she-cat with light tabby curly hair. Nightpaw recognized her as the RavenClan cat they fortuitously asked for directions to the ViperClan camp room.

And on the nest next to her was...

_"Fawnpaw!"_ they gasped. Redpaw gasped even more.

For Fawnpaw was lying utterly still, her orange eyes open and glassy. Her fur had been bristling, but it was now so frozen that she looked like a feline-like porcupine.

"They were found near the library," Thistleheart informed them. "Can either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them," she added, holding a small circular mirror in her jaws.

Nightpaw and Redpaw shook their heads, both staring at Fawnpaw.

"I will escort you back to LionClan Tower," Thistleheart sighed heavily. "I need to address the apprentices in any case."

The two toms nodded, following the pale brown tabby she-cat out of the medicine den. But before they left, Nightpaw looked over his shoulder and rasped:

"Wish you were here. We need you, Fawnpaw. More than ever."

**...**

"All cats will return to their Clan camp rooms by six p.m. No apprentice is to leave the dorms after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a mentor. No student is to use the lavatory alone unless escorted by a mentor. All further AirBall training and matches are to be suspended. There will be no more evening activities."

The LionClan cats packed inside the common room listened to Thistleheart in silence. She rolled up the scroll from which she had been reading and rasped in a choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so troubled before. It is likely that the school may be closed unless the one behind these attacks is captured. I would advise anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward and speak."

She climbed rather gawkily out of the picture hole, and the LionClan cats began talking instantly.

"That's two LionClan cats and a ghost down, and a cat each from BadgerClan and RavenClan," Quicktongue announced, counting his tail flicks. "Hasn't anyone noticed that the ViperClan cats are safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from ViperClan? Viper's Heir? Viper's monster? Why don't they just get rid of ViperClan?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause complete with yowling.

Sandthorn was sitting in a chair behind the black-&-white tom, but for once, he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned, his eyes wide.

"Sandthorn's in complete shock," Cherrynose told Nightpaw quietly. "That RavenClan cat...her name's Lightwhisker Clearwater and she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect."

But Nightpaw wasn't listening much. He couldn't get rid of the picture of Fawnpaw, lying on the medicine nest as if carved out of stone. And if the wrongdoer wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Dursley cats. Pantherclaw had turned Badgerstripe in because he was faced with the prospect of an animal shelter if the school closed. Now Nightpaw knew exactly how he had felt.

"What're we gonna do?" hissed Redpaw quietly in Nightpaw's ear. "Do you think they suspect Badgerstripe?"

"We have to go talk to him," Nightpaw replied, making up his mind. "I don't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time, he'll know how to get inside the Cavern of Secrets. And that's a start."

Redpaw looked like he was going to dive into a pool of ants. "But Thistleheart said we have to stay in our tower unless we're in class."

More quietly, Nightpaw muttered, "I think it's time to get my dad's old pelt out again."

**...**

Nightpaw had inherited just one thing from his father: a long silvery Invisibility Pelt. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Badgerstripe without anyone knowing about it. They went to bed as usual, waited until the other toms stopped discussing the Cavern of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, and got up again, throwing the Pelt over themselves.

The trip through the dark and empty castle corridors wasn't fun. Nightpaw, who had wandered the castle at night sometimes before, had never seen it so full after sunset. Mentors, prefects, and ghosts were marching the halls in pairs, staring about for any rare activity. Their Invisibility Pelt didn't stop them from making any noise, and there was a tense moment when Redpaw stubbed his paw kit-steps away from the spot where Brokenfang stood guard. Thankfully, the dark brown tabby tom sneezed at almost exactly the moment the ginger tom swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Badgerstripe's hut and pulled off the Pelt only when they were right outside his front door. Seconds after they had knocked, Badgerstripe flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Marmaduke barked loudly behind him, his Great Dane size towering over them.

"Oh," he muttered, dropping the weapon and staring at them. "What're yeh doin' here?"

"What's that for?" Nightpaw asked, gesturing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

Badgerstripe looked down at it. "Nothin'. I've bin expectin'...doesn' matter. Sit down now. I'll make some coffee."

But Badgerstripe hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly doused the fire, spilling water from the steamer on it, and smashed the big coffee beaker with a nervous jerk of his massive paw.

Nightpaw gazed at him with concern. "You okay there? Did you hear about Fawnpaw?"

"Oh, I heard, all right," Badgerstripe sighed, a slight break in his voice.

He kept glancing nervously at the windows. The huge black tom poured them both large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add sugar) and was just putting a slab of red velvet cake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door.

Badgerstripe dropped the cake while he spun around. Nightpaw and Redpaw exchanged terrified looks, and then they threw the Invisibility Pelt back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Badgerstripe checked to see if they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening."

It was Silverstar. The silver tabby Persian entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second very odd-looking tomcat.

The stranger had a creased chocolate-brown pelt and an anxious expression. For a cat, he was wearing a strange mix of clothes: a striped suit, a ruby tie, and a long black cape. On his head, he had a lime-green bowler hat. This cat even looked like a Havana Brown.

"That's Dad's boss!" Redpaw gasped. "Fudgepelt Fudge, Governor of Warriorism!"

Nightpaw nudged his friend hard to make him shut up.

Badgerstripe's dark amber eyes were widened and his tail tip was twitching. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Silverstar to Fudgepelt.

"Bad business, sir," Fudgepelt meowed in tidy tones. "Very bad. Had to come. Four attacks on kittypet-born cats. Things have gone far enough. The Government's got to act now."

"I..." Badgerstripe stuttered, looking earnestly at Silverstar. "Yeh know I'd never, sir..."

"I want it understood, Fudgepelt, that Badgerstripe has my full confidence," Silverstar mewed, frowning at Fudgepelt.

"Look, Silverstar," the Havana Brown meowed uncomfortably. "His record's against him. The Government's got to do something. The school councils have been in touch."

Silverstar looked over at him, his blue eyes full of a fire Nightpaw had never seen before. "Yet again, I tell you that taking Badgerstripe away will not help in any way."

Fudgepelt shuffled his forepaws, meowing, "Look at it this way. I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to do something. If it isn't Badgerstripe, he'll be back and no more words will be said. But I've got to take him. Got to. I wouldn't be doing my duty as Governor."

"Take me?" moaned Badgerstripe, trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short trip," Fudgepelt replied, not meeting his eyes. "Not a sentence, but more a security measure. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology."

Badgerstripe gulped. "N-Not Alcatraz?"

However, before Fudgepelt could answer, there was another loud rap on the door. Silverstar got up and answered it. It was Nightpaw's turn for an elbow in the ribs, for he let out an audible gasp.

Blizzardclaw Malfoy was striding into Badgerstripe's hut, draped in a long black traveling cape, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Marmaduke started to growl, which was countered by a cold glare.

His fur glowing white in the moonlight, the black-&-silver tabby meowed favorably, "Already here, Fudgepelt."

"What're _you_ doin' here?" Badgerstripe spat furiously. "Get the hell outta my house!"

"Believe me, I take no pleasure in being inside your...do you call this a house?" Blizzardclaw growled, sneering as he looked around the small hut. "I simply called at the school and was told that the leader was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Blizzardclaw?" Silverstar spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his bright blue eyes.

"Dreadful thing, Silverstar," Blizzardclaw replied lazily, taking out a long scroll. "But the boards feel it's time for you to step down. This is an Order of Suspension; you'll find all twelve names on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon? At this rate, there'll be no kittypet-borns left at the Forest, and we all know what an awful loss that would be."

"Now see here," Fudgepelt interrupted, looking alarmed, "Silverstar suspended? No, no. That's the last thing we want right now."

Blizzardclaw looked over at him warily. "The appointment, or suspension, of the leader is a matter for the senates, Fudge. Since Silverstar failed to stop these attacks-"

Fudgepelt shook his head. "See here, Malfoy, if Silverstar can't stop them, who can?"

"That remains to be seen," the British Shorthair told him with a nasty smile. "But all twelve of us have voted-"

Badgerstripe leapt to his paws, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling, as he roared, "And how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, eh?"

Blizzardclaw sighed scornfully. "Dear, dear. You know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one day. I would advise you not to yowl at the guards of Alcatraz like that. They won't like it at all."

"Yeh can't take Silverstar!" yelled Badgerstripe, making Marmaduke cower and whimper in his basket. "If yeh take him away, the kittypet-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killins next!"

"Be calm, Badgerstripe," Silverstar told the gamekeeper sharply. He glanced at Blizzardclaw. "If the senates want my removal, I shall step aside."

"But..." Fudgepelt gasped.

"No!" Badgerstripe spat.

The silver-pelted leader did not take his bright blue eyes off Blizzardclaw's cold gray eyes. Then he spoke slowly and clearly so no one missed a word, "However, you will find that I will only truly leave this school when none here are loyal to me. Help will arrive at the Forest to those who seek it."

For a second, Nightpaw thought Silverstar's eyes flickered toward the corner where he and Redpaw were hidden. But he didn't say anything about it.

"Admirable views," Blizzardclaw told him, bowing. "We shall all miss your...very individual way of running things, Silverstar, and only hope your successor will prevent any...ah..._killins_. Shall we, Fudgepelt?"

He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Silverstar out. Fudgepelt, twitching his tail, waited for Badgerstripe to go ahead of him, meowing, "Come, Hagrid. Well?"

But Badgerstripe stood his ground, took a deep breath, and meowed carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find some stuff, all they gotta do would be ter follow the fire ants. Yep. That'd lead 'em right. Is all I'm sayin'."

Fudgepelt stared at him in wonder.

"Okay, I'm comin'," Badgerstripe grumbled, getting up and padding to the door. But as he was about to follow Fudgepelt through the door, he stopped again and added loudly, "And someone'll need ter feed Duke while I'm away."

The door banged shut, followed by pawsteps on the evening grass. Redpaw pulled off the Invisibility Pelt, looking shocked.

"We're in trouble," he rasped hoarsely. "No Silverstar, no safety. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day while he's away."

Hearing this Marmaduke started howling, scratching at the closed door. They were all doomed.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Hey Hermione. Did Katara and Holly tell you my dog Sony had four puppies on Sunday night?**

**Hermione: I didn't! Really!**

**AvatarCat11: Yeah! Here's a picture. (Shows her the picture)**

**Hermione: (Goes all big-eyed) AWWW! They're so CUTE! So the males are pale and the female is black?**

**AvatarCat11: Also a runt. Would you like to say the review thing?**

**Hermione: Yes please. (To the readers) If anyone reviews this chapter, they will receive a virtual plush doll of one of the puppies Sony had on Sunday. Flames will be used to heat up the fireplace in Dumbledore's office, and constructive criticism is allowed, as long as it's not too harsh.**

**AvatarCat11 and Hermione: See ya next time!**


	15. Aragog

**AvatarCat11: I've decided that I'll keep Aragog's name, but he'll be a giant ant. (Turning to Ron) You hear that? It'll show an ant instead of a spider.**

**Ron: Thanks, mate. I'm glad you put ants on here instead of...those things.**

**AvatarCat11: No problem. And don't forget that I'm changing my name to AvatarCat12 at the end of the year. Remember?**

**Ron: Yeah. I know. So can I say the disclaimer now?**

**AvatarCat11: Sure.**

**Ron: (Smiles at him) Thanks again, mate.**

**Disclaimer: Does AvatarCat11 look like he owns Harry Potter or Warrior Cats. No. J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter are the owners of those two.**

**Updating Date: December 8, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Ron: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Aragog_

Greenleaf was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned sapphire blue and flowers large as rabbits burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Badgerstripe striding the grounds with Marmaduke behind him, the scene didn't look right to Nightpaw. No better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so unbearably wrong.

Nightpaw and Redpaw had tried to visit Fawnpaw, but visitors were now excluded from the hospital wing.

"We're taking no more chances," Poppyleaf told them sharply through a crack in the medicine den door. "I'm sorry. There's a chance the attacker might return to finish these cats off."

With Silverstar gone, fear had spread as quickly as a wildfire, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried and edgy, and any laughter that rang through the halls sounded shrill and unnatural. After the laughter, it was quickly stifled.

Nightpaw always repeated Silverstar's final words to himself: "I will only truly leave this school when none here are loyal to me. Help will arrive at the Forest to those who seek it." But what good were these words now? Who were they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were?

Badgerstripe's hint about the ants was easier to understand. The trouble was, there was for some time no single ant left in the castle to follow. Nightpaw looked everywhere he went to, assisted aversely by Redpaw. They were hindered, of course, by the fact that they weren't allowed to go off on their own, but they had to move around the castle in a pack with the other LionClan cats. Most of their fellow apprentices seemed glad that they were being herded from class to class by mentors, but Nightpaw found it very annoying.

One cat, however, seemed to enjoy all the terror and suspicion. Icepaw was swaggering about the school like he owned the place. Nightpaw didn't know what he was so happy about until Potions lessons a half-moon after Silverstar and Badgerstripe left. Seated behind the British Shorthair, Nightpaw heard him shamelessly bragging to his cronies.

"I always knew Father was the one to drive Silverstar way," he bragged, not keeping his voice down. "I told you he thinks that fool was the worst leader ever, and I hope he never comes back. Maybe we'll get a decent leader now. Someone who wants the Cavern of Secrets open forever. The old hag won't last long. She's only filling in."

Brokenfang swept past Nightpaw, making no comment about Fawnpaw's empty seat and pot. It was probably favoritism, but he managed to hold his tongue or he would get detention for a moon.

Then Icepaw called to the dark tabby, "Sir, why don't you become the leader?"

"Now, now, Icepaw," Brokenfang meowed, though he couldn't stifle a thin-lipped smile. "The leader has only been suspended by the councils. I say he'll be back with us soon."

"Yeah right," Icepaw replied, smirking. "I hope you have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted to be the leader. I'll tell Father you're the best mentor here!"

Brokenfang smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Sandpaw, who pretended to retch into his pot. It seemed Nightpaw and Redpaw weren't the only ones grossed out by this sucking-up.

"I'm surprised the kittybloods haven't packed up yet," Icepaw went on gloating. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. It's a shame Granger didn't die."

The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky. At Icepaw's last words, Redpaw had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his efforts to reach Icepaw went unnoticed. But Nightpaw and Cinderpaw managed to grab him by both shoulders and hauled him back.

"Let me at him!" Redpaw hissed as Nightpaw and Cinderpaw held him back. "I don't care! I don't need my tail-wand! I'm going to kill him with my bare claws!"

"Hurry up now! I've got to take you all to Herbology," Brokenfang barked over the class's heads.

And off they marched, with Nightpaw, Redpaw, and Cinderpaw bringing up the rear. Redpaw was still trying to get loose, but he was still held back. It was only safe to let go of him when Brokenfang saw them out of the castle and they were making their way across the vegetable patch toward the hothouses.

The Herbology class was very quiet; there were now two cats missing from the class, Finchpaw and Fawnpaw. Sproutflower set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Nightpaw went to tip a pawful of withered stems onto the manure heap when he found himself face-to-face with Birchpaw.

The stout tabby-&-white tom took a deep breath and mewed properly, "I want to say this to you, Nightpaw. I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Fawnpaw, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in this together, and, well..."

He dipped his head low in an apologizing way. Nightpaw thought Birchpaw only did that out of fear, but there was a real apology in his voice. Happy to accept this, the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix dipped his head towards the Exotic Shorthair in return.

Birchpaw and his Clanmate Snowpaw came to work at the same Shrivelfig that Nightpaw and Redpaw were at. Breaking off a few twigs, Birchpaw meowed, "That Icepaw fellow seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? You know, I think _he_ might be Viper's heir."

"Glad you figured that out in time," Redpaw growled. He didn't seem to forgive Birchpaw as eagerly as Nightpaw.

"Do _you_ think it's Icepaw?" the tabby-&-white tom asked the two toms.

"No," Nightpaw meowed. Because he knew Icepaw wasn't the one, though he wished he was, he had meowed this so firmly that the two BadgerClan cats stared at him in a confused way.

A second later, Nightpaw spotted something. Several large fire ants were darting over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an unnaturally straight line as if taking the shortest route to a planned meeting. Nightpaw turned away and nudged Redpaw in the shoulder with his hedge clippers.

"Ow! What're you-"

Nightpaw pointed out the ants with his tail, following their progress with his eyes screwed up against the sun. Redpaw looked at them and flinched, his blue eyes fixed on them in horror.

Redpaw tried to look happy, but he failed. "Oh yeah. But we can't follow them now."

For Birchpaw and Snowpaw were listening curiously.

Nightpaw's emerald eyes narrowed as he focused on the ants. If they pursued their fixed course, there could be no doubt about where they would end up.

"They're heading for the Forbidden Swamp."

But Redpaw looked even unhappier about that.

**...**

At the end of the lesson, Sproutflower escorted the class to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Nightpaw and Redpaw lagged behind the other cats so they could talk out of earshot.

"We'll use the Invisibility Pelt again," Nightpaw told Redpaw. "We'll take Marmaduke with us. He's used to going into the swamp with Badgerstripe. He might be some help."

"Sure," meowed Redpaw, who was twirling his tail about nervously. "Um…aren't there werecats in the swamp?" he added as they took their places at the back of Gloryhound's classroom.

Not wanting to answer that question, Nightpaw meowed instead, "There are good things in there, too. The wild horses in there are all right, and the unicorns…well, I only saw a dead one."

Redpaw had never been into the Forbidden Swamp before. He had an injury, thus preventing him from seeing the horrors of the swamp. Nightpaw had entered it only once for detention, and he had hoped to never do so again.

Gloryhound bounded into the room and the class stared at him. Every other mentor in the place was looking dourer than usual, but the Cornish Rex appeared nothing but jaunty.

"Come now," the creamy brown tom called, grinning around him. "Why the long faces?"

Cats swapped annoyed looks, but nobody answered him.

"Don't you realize?" Gloryhound meowed, speaking slowly as if they were stupid. "The danger has passed! The wrongdoer has been taken away!"

"Says who?" Cinderpaw called loudly.

In the tone of someone explaining that one and one was two, Gloryhound meowed, "My dear young tom, the Governor of Warriorism wouldn't have taken Badgerstripe if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that he was guilty."

"Oh, yes he would," Redpaw retorted, more loudly than Cinderpaw.

"I think I know more about Badgerstripe's arrest than you, Mr. Weasley," Gloryhound bragged in a smug tone.

The American Shorthair started to say that _he_ didn't think so. But he stopped in midsentence when Nightpaw laid a forepaw on his shoulder.

"We weren't there, remember?" he muttered.

But Gloryhound's disgusting jollity, his hints that he had always thought Badgerstripe was guilty, his confidence that the whole business was done…those were irritating. This irritated Nightpaw so much that he wanted to throw Gallivanting with Guars right in the Cornish Rex's stupid face.

Instead, he calmed himself with scrawling a note to Redpaw:

_Let's do it tonight._

Redpaw read the message, swallowed hard, and looked sideways at the empty seat usually filled by Fawnpaw. Missing the Angora mix seemed to stiffen his resolve, and he nodded.

**...**

The LionClan camp room was always very crowded these days, because from six onward, the LionClan cats had nowhere else to go. They also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the camp room often didn't empty until past moonhigh.

Nightpaw went to his nest to get the Invisibility Pelt out of his trunk after dinner, spending the evening sitting on it and waiting for the room to clear. Berrytail and Cherrynose had challenged Nightpaw and Redpaw to a few games of Ignition Go Fish. Leafpaw sat watching them, very quiet in Fawnpaw's usual chair.

Nightpaw and Redpaw kept losing on purpose, trying to finish the games quickly. But despite that, it was well past moonhigh when the other Weasley cats finally went to go to sleep. Then they waited for the distant sounds of two dorm doors closing before seizing the Pelt, throwing it over themselves, and climbing through the picture hole.

It was another difficult journey through the castle, dodging all the mentors. At last, they reached the entrance hall, slid back the lock on the oak front doors, squeezed between them, trying to stop any squeaking, and stepped out into the moonlit grounds. They had finally got out of the castle and off towards the usual hut.

As they padded across the dark grounds, Redpaw mewed abruptly, "We might get to the swamp and find nothing to follow. Those spiders might not go there at all. I know it looked like they were moving in that sort of general direction, but..."

His voice trailed away hopefully.

They reached Badgerstripe's hut, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows. When they pushed the door open, Marmaduke went mad with joy at the sight of them, barking with joy. Worried he would wake everyone at the castle with his deep booming barks, they hastily fed him caramel from a box on a shelf, which glued his teeth together. Nightpaw left the Invisibility Pelt on Badgerstripe's table. There would be no need for it in the pitch-dark forest.

"C'mon, Duke. We're going for a walk," Nightpaw called, flicking his tail around. Marmaduke bounded happily out of the house behind them, dashed to the edge of the swamp, and lifted his leg against a big elm tree to mark his territory.

Nightpaw flicked his tail-wand around and murmured, _"Lumos!"_ A tiny light appeared at the end of it, just enough to let them watch the path for signs of ants.

"Good thinking," Redpaw meowed. "I'd light mine too, but...it'll maybe blow up or something..."

Nightpaw used his paw to tap Redpaw on the shoulder, pointing at the grass. Two solitary ants were hurrying away from the tail-wand light into the shade of the trees.

As if resigned for the worst, Redpaw sighed, "I'm ready. Let's go." Muttering to himself, he added, "Why ants? Why couldn't we follow the caterpillars?"

So, with Marmaduke darting around them, sniffing out roots and leaves, they entered the swamp. By the glow of Nightpaw's tail-wand, they followed the steady trickle of ants moving along the path. They padded behind them for twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves, not to mention the scuttling of prey. When the trees had become thicker, so that the stars above were no longer visible and Nightpaw's tail-wand shone alone in the dark, they saw their ant guides leave the path.

Nightpaw paused, trying to see where the ants were going, but everything outside his little sphere of light was pitch-black. He had never been this deep into the swamp before; in fact, it was far from where he saw Quailflight drinking unicorn blood. He recalled Badgerstripe advising him to not leave the path last time he was in here. But Badgerstripe was sky-lengths away, probably in a cell in Alcatraz, and he had also said to follow the ants.

Something wet touched Nightpaw's back and he jumped backward, crushing Redpaw's paw. But it was only Marmaduke, sniffing his pelt with his nose on his back.

"What do you think?" Nightpaw asked Redpaw, whose blue eyes he could see, reflecting the light from his tail-wand.

"We've come really far," came his reply.

So they followed the darting shadows of the ants into the trees. They couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in the way, barely visible in the near blackness. Nightpaw could feel Marmaduke's hot stinky breath on his ears. More than once, they stopped to crouch down and find the ants in the tail-wand light.

They walked for what seemed like at least half an hour, their pelts tearing on low-slung branches and brambles. After a while, they noticed that the ground was slanting downward, though the oak trees were as thick as ever. Then Marmaduke suddenly let loose a great bark, making Nightpaw and Redpaw jump out of their skins.

"What?" Redpaw meowed loudly, looking around into the dark.

"There's something moving over there," Nightpaw breathed. "Listen. It sounds like something big."

They listened. Some distance to their right, the big something was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.

Redpaw mewled, "Oh no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh no..."

"Shut up," Nightpaw hissed at him anxiously. "It'll hear you."

In an unnaturally high voice, Redpaw squealed, "Hear me? It just heard Marmaduke!"

The darkness seemed to be pressing on their eyes as they stood, terrified and waiting. There was a strange rumbling noise and then...silence.

Nightpaw meowed, "What do you think it's doing?"

Redpaw gulped. "Pouncing."

They waited, shivering, hardly moving.

"You think it's gone?" Nightpaw whispered.

"No idea."

Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that both cats leaped behind oak trees to shield their eyes. Marmaduke yelped and tried to run, but he got lodged in a tangle of thorns and yelped even louder.

Then... "Nightpaw! It's the Dodge truck!"

"Huh?"

"Come on!"

Nightpaw blundered after Redpaw toward the light, stumbling and tripping. A moment later, they had emerged into a clearing. And what he saw made him gasp.

Samantha's red truck was standing, empty, in the middle of a clearing under a roof of dense branches, its headlights alight. As Redpaw padded, open-mouthed, toward it, it moved slowly toward him like a large crimson dog greeting its owner.

Padding around the monster, Redpaw mewed happily, "It's been here all the time! Look at it. The swamp sure turned it wild."

The sides of the monster were scratched and smeared with mud. Outwardly, it had appeared to have had rolled around the swamp on its own. Marmaduke didn't seem at all keen on it; he kept close to Nightpaw, who felt him quivering. His breathing slowing down, Nightpaw lowered his tail-wand.

"And we thought it was going to attack us!" Redpaw purred, leaping onto the monster's hood and patting it. "I was wondering where it went to!"

Nightpaw squinted around on the floodlit ground for signs of more ants. But they had all scuttled away from the glare of the headlights.

"Shit! We lost the trail," he hissed. "Let's go find them."

But Redpaw didn't speak. He didn't move. His widened eyes were fixed on a point some cat-lengths above the forest floor, right behind Nightpaw and his face was livid with terror. Finally, he rasped, "Where's Fawnpaw when you need her?"

Nightpaw didn't have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly, he felt something long and hairy seize him around his belly and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging level to the ground. Struggling and terrified, he heard more clicking and saw Redpaw's front legs leave the ground; he heard Marmaduke's whimpering and howling. Next moment, he was being swept away into the dark trees.

Head hanging, Nightpaw saw that what had hold of him was marching on four very long hairy legs, the front two clutching him tightly below a pair of shining black pincers. Behind him, he heard another of the creatures, no doubt carrying Redpaw. They were moving into the very heart of the forest.

Nightpaw heard Marmaduke fighting to free himself from a third monster, whining loudly. But he couldn't have shrieked even if he had wanted to; he seemed to have left his voice back with the monster in the clearing.

He never knew how long he was in the creature's clutches; he only knew the darkness suddenly lifting enough for him to see the leaf-strewn ground teeming with ants. Craning his neck askew, he realized they had reached the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees. And the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene he had ever seen.

Ants. Not tiny ants like those surging over the leaves below. These ants were the size of ponies, beady-eyed, six-legged, black, hairy, and huge. The massive ant carrying Nightpaw made its way down the steep slope toward a large brown dirt mound in the center of the hollow. Its cohorts closed in all around it, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of its catch.

Nightpaw fell to the ground on all fours as the ant let him go. Redpaw and Marmaduke thudded down next to him. Marmaduke wasn't howling now, but he was cowering silently on the spot. Redpaw looked exactly like Nightpaw felt. His jaws were stretched wide in a silent scream and his eyes were popping.

The young black cat suddenly saw that the ant that dropped him was saying something. It had been hard to tell, because it clicked its pincers with every word it spoke.

"Aragog!" it called. "Aragog!"

And from the middle of the large dirt mound, an ant the size of a rhino emerged slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and the eyes on his ugly head were milky white. He was blind.

Feeling Redpaw flinch next to him, Nightpaw hissed, "Don't panic."

"What is it?" he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.

"Cats," clicked the ant that caught Nightpaw.

"Badgerstripe?" Aragog asked, moving closer. His milky eyes were wandering vaguely. "Is that you?"

"We're friends of his," Nightpaw meowed hastily. His heart seemed to leave his chest to pound in his throat as he approached the giant ant. "And you... You're Aragog, right?"

_Click, click, click_, went the pincers of the ants all around the hollow.

Aragog paused. "Yes. But Badgerstripe has never sent cats into our hollow before."

Thinking fast, Nightpaw breathed, "He's in trouble. That's why we've come."

He thought of getting to his paws, but he decided not to; he didn't think his legs would support him. So he spoke from the ground, as calmly as he could. "Up at the school, there's been some attacks. They think it's Badgerstripe; they think he opened the Cavern of Secrets again. That's why they've taken him to Alcatraz."

Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of ants. It was like applause, except applause didn't usually make Nightpaw feel sick with fear.

"That's a lie! He did not open the Cavern of Secrets!" Aragog snapped. Then he added fretfully, "Years ago, something like that did happen. I remember it well. That's why they banished him from the school. They believed I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Cavern of Secrets. They thought Badgerstripe had opened the Cavern and set me free."

"So you didn't come from the Cavern of Secrets?" Nightpaw asked, his heart racing.

"No!" Aragog said, clicking angrily. "The monster was born in the castle. I, on the other pincer, come from a distant land called Australia. A traveler gave me to Badgerstripe when I was an egg. He was just an apprentice, but he cared for me, hidden in a closet in the castle, feeding me scraps from the table. That good cat is my friend, and a good cat at that. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a she-cat, he saved me. I have lived here in the swamp ever since, where he still visits me. He even found me a wife, and you can see how our family has grown, all through the goodness of his heart."

"Nightpaw?" Redpaw squeaked.

"Shh." Nightpaw summoned what remained of his courage. "Then...you're not the monster?"

The old ant croaked again, "No. I _would_ eat a wandering cat, but out of respect for Badgerstripe, I never harmed one. The body of the killed she-cat was discovered in a restroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the closet in which I grew up. Our species like the dark and the quiet."

Nightpaw meowed, "Well, do you know what killed the she-cat? And if you're not the monster, who is? Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking cats again."

His words were drowned by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily. Large black or brown shapes shifted all around him.

"The thing that lives in the castle," Aragog sighed, "is an ancient creature we ants fear above all others. I recall how I asked Badgerstripe to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school."

"What is it?" Nightpaw asked the old ant urgently.

Louder clicking, more rustling. The ants seemed to be closing in.

"We do not speak of it!" Aragog snapped fiercely. "We do not name it! I never told Badgerstripe the name of that awful creature, though he asked me many times."

Redpaw rasped again, "Nightpaw?"

Nightpaw rounded on him, hissing, "What now?"

The ginger tom slowly pointed a forepaw to the canopy of the trees. Ants were swarming around them, slowly dropping to the ground, their pincers covered in some kind of ooze.

Nightpaw didn't want to press the subject, not with ants pressing closer on all sides. Aragog seemed to be tired of talking. He was backing slowly into his dirt mound, but his fellow ants continued to inch slowly toward the two toms.

"Well...thank you. But we better go," Nightpaw called, hearing leaves rustling behind him.

But Aragog said slowly, "Go? I think not. My sons and daughters do not harm Badgerstripe on my command. But I cannot deny them prey, when it wanders willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friend of Badgerstripe."

"Can we panic now?" Redpaw rasped in a high voice.

Nightpaw nodded before spinning around himself. Fox-lengths away, towering above him, was a solid wall of ants, clicking, their eyes gleaming in their ugly black heads. Even as he raised his tail-wand, Nightpaw knew it was no good; there were too many of them. But as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud long bellow sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.

The red Dodge truck was rumbling down the hill, headlights glaring, its horn honking, knocking several ants aside. Several ants were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The monster screeched to a halt in front of the two toms, and the doors flew open.

"Get Marmaduke!" Nightpaw yelled, diving into the front seat.

Redpaw seized the Great Dane by the leg and pulled him, yelping, into the back of the truck and the doors slammed shut. Redpaw didn't use the accelerator, but the monster didn't need him; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more ants. They sped up the hill, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way through the widest gaps, following a path it o knew.

Nightpaw looked sideways at Redpaw. His mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.

"Are you okay?"

Redpaw stared straight ahead, unable to speak. But suddenly, a pincer burst through the window and grabbed onto his neck, making him howl in terror. Nightpaw clawed at the ant, but when that didn't work, he fired a light spell at the ant, causing it to back off and let Redpaw go. The ginger tom gasped with relief before he took the wheel and started driving.

They smashed their way through the undergrowth, Marmaduke howling loudly in the back seat. Nightpaw saw the side mirror snap off as they squeezed past a large birch tree. After ten noisy rocky minutes, the trees thinned, and Nightpaw could again see patches of night sky. Several deer grazing in front of them noticed them and bounded away into the trees.

The truck stopped so suddenly that they were nearly thrown into the windshield. At last, they had reached the edge of the swamp.

Marmaduke flung himself at the window in his anxiety to get out, and when Nightpaw opened the door, he shot off past the trees to Badgerstripe's hut, tail between his legs. The Maine Coon mix got out too, and after a minute or so, Redpaw seemed to regain the feeling in his legs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring. Nightpaw gave the truck's tire a grateful pat on the hood as it reversed back into the swamp and left.

Nightpaw went back into the hut to get the Invisibility Pelt. Marmaduke was trembling under a blanket in his basket. When Nightpaw got outside again, he found Redpaw being very sick in the pumpkin patch. He wondered what Badgerstripe would say if he found his pumpkin patch soiled.

"Follow the ants? Follow the ants!" Redpaw moaned feebly, wiping his mouth on his left foreleg. "If Badgerstripe get out of Alcatraz, I'll kill him! We're lucky to get out alive!"

"I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his," Nightpaw mewed.

Redpaw slapped his tail against his side and spat, "That's the problem! He thinks monsters aren't bad at all, and look where it got him! A cell in Alcatraz!" He was shaking wildly now. "What was the point of all that? And what have we found out?"

"We know one thing: Badgerstripe never opened the Cavern of Secrets," Nightpaw meowed, throwing the Pelt over Redpaw and prodding him to make him walk. "He was innocent."

The American Shorthair gave a loud snort. To him, hatching Aragog in a closet wasn't his idea of being innocent.

As the castle loomed nearer, Nightpaw twitched the Pelt to make their paws hidden, and then they pushed the creaking front doors ajar. They crept carefully back across the entrance hall and up the sandstone staircase, holding their breath as they passed halls where watchful patrols were prowling.

At last they reached the safety of the LionClan camp room, where the fire had burned itself into glowing ashes. They took off the Pelt and climbed the winding stair to their dorm. Redpaw had leaped onto his nest without bothering to groom himself. Nightpaw, however, didn't feel sleepy at all. He sat on the edge of his four-poster nest, thinking hard of everything Aragog had said.

The creature that was lurking in the castle, he thought, sounded like a monster Red Helmet; even other monsters wouldn't name it. But he and Redpaw were no closer to finding out what it was, or how it Petrified its victims. Even Badgerstripe had never known what was in the Cavern of Secrets.

Nightpaw leaped onto his nest and leaned back against his pillows, watching the moon glinting at him through the tower window. He couldn't see what else they could do. They had hit dead ends everywhere. Pantherclaw had caught the wrong cat, Viper's Heir had gotten away, and no one could tell whether it was the same cat, or different, who had opened the Cavern this time. There was nobody else left to ask. Nightpaw lay down, still thinking about what Aragog had said.

He was becoming drowsy when what seemed like their last hope occurred to him. He sat bolt upright so suddenly and looked over to where Redpaw was dozing.

"Redpaw," he hissed through the dark. "Redpaw!"

The ginger tom woke with a yelp like Marmaduke's, stared wildly around, and saw Nightpaw. He relaxed and tilted his head forward to listen.

"Look...about the she-cat who was killed. Aragog said she was found in a restroom," Nightpaw explained, ignoring Toadpaw's snoring from the corner. "What if she never left the restroom? What if she's still there?"

Redpaw rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. And then he understood.

"You mean that cat's...Carping Turtleneck?"

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: Yeah, I know I updated this yesterday, but I just wanted to. And we've only got three more chapters to go! So Ron, who do you think should come over next?**

**Ron: How about Ginny? I know she doesn't like it, but she wanted to see what it was like in her cat form.**

**AvatarCat11: If she's sure...**

**Ron: She is. And I'm REALLY glad this chapter's over. Spiders are bloody mental, but ants? Just as mental!**

**AvatarCat11: (Chuckles) Hey, what about the review thing?**

**Ron: (Recovering) Oh yeah. I'll get to it. (To the readers) Anyone who reviews will get some virtual sugar-frosted cookies with red or green icing... (Drools for a bit before getting back into focus) Sorry. Anyways, flames will be used to...burn spiders alive!**

**AvatarCat11: Boy, do you hate your spiders!**

**AvatarCat11 and Ron: See ya next time!**


	16. The Cavern Of Secrets

**AvatarCat11: I know I've already updated another chapter today, but I decided to think about adding another so soon. So I've decided to get this done and over with. And today with me is Ginny!**

**Ginny: (To the readers) Hey, everyone! I'm getting a little nervous about this chapter.**

**AvatarCat11: Why?**

**Ginny: (Gives him a mildly annoyed look) That's when my cat form goes into the Chamber, I mean...Cavern Of Secrets. That's why.**

**AvatarCat11: Oh. Sorry there.**

**Ginny: (Smiles) It's all right, AvatarCat. So I'll go ahead and say the disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: If AvatarCat11 owned Harry Potter or Warrior Cats, he would be living in New York City and making a movie of this. But he doesn't own them.**

**Updating Date: December 8, 2011**

**AvatarCat11 and Ginny: Enjoy!**

**...**

_The Cavern Of Secrets_

"All those times we were in that restroom and she was three latrines away," Redpaw muttered bitterly at breakfast next day. "We could've asked her, and now…"

It was hard enough trying to look for ants now, though that part was complete. Escaping their mentors long enough to sneak into a she-cats' bathroom, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost difficult. But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, which drove the Cavern of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in moons:

Ten minutes into the class, Thistleheart told them that their tests would start on the first day of June, one quarter-moon from today.

_"__Tests?"_ Sandpaw roared. "We're still getting _tests_?"

There was a loud bang behind Nightpaw as Toadpaw's tail-wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk. Thistleheart restored it with a wave of her own tail-wand, and turned, frowning, to the sand-colored Manx.

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education," she explained sternly. "The tests will therefore take place at the usual time, and I trust you are all studying hard."

_Studying hard!_ It had never occurred to Nightpaw that there would be tests with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of defiant muttering around the room, which made Thistleheart scowl even more darkly.

She went on, "Silverstar's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible. And I shouldn't point this out, but that means finding out how much you learned this year."

Nightpaw looked down at the pair of lizards he was supposed to be turning into Twoleg sandals. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam. Like Redpaw, he hadn't learned anything in Gloryhound's classes except for not letting satyrs out of their cage.

Redpaw looked as if he was just told he had to go and live in the Forbidden Swamp. Holding up his tail-wand, which was whistling loudly, he asked Nightpaw, "Can you imagine me taking tests with this?"

Three days before their first test, Thistleheart made another message at breakfast.

"I have good news," she mewed, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Silverstar came back!" many cats yowled joyfully.

"You've caught Viper's Heir!" a RavenClan she-cat squealed.

"AirBall matches are back on!" Treebranch roared excitedly.

When the noise died down, Thistleheart continued, "Sproutflower just informed me that the Mandrakes are ready to be cut at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive the cats who have been Petrified this year. I should not have to remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I hope this dreadful year will end with catching the criminal."

There was an explosion of cheering all around. Nightpaw looked over at the ViperClan table and wasn't surprised to see that Icepaw didn't join in; in fact, he looked like he hoped the Petrified cats should have died. Redpaw, however, was looking happier than he looked in days.

"It won't matter that we never asked Turtleneck!" the ginger tom purred to Nightpaw. "Fawnpaw might have all the answers when they wake her up! She'll be so pissed when she finds out we've got tests in three sunrises. She hasn't studied. We can leave her where she is till they're over."

Just then, Leafpaw padded over and sat down next to Redpaw. She looked tense and nervous, and Nightpaw noticed that her brown eyes were looking from left to right.

Helping himself to a slice of mouse patty, Redpaw asked his sister, "What's up?"

The small ginger she-cat didn't say anything, but she glanced up and down the LionClan table with a scared look on her face. That look reminded Nightpaw of someone he knew, but he couldn't think who.

"Go on. Spit it out," Redpaw urged her, watching her.

Suddenly, Nightpaw realized who Leafpaw was acting like. She was rocking back and forth slightly in her chair, just like Bobby did when he was on the edge of telling him some forbidden information.

"I've got to tell you something," Leafpaw mumbled, carefully not looking at Nightpaw.

"What is it?" Nightpaw asked her.

Leafpaw looked as if she couldn't find the right words. The small American Shorthair opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Nightpaw leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Redpaw and Leafpaw could hear him.

"Is it about the Cavern of Secrets?" Redpaw asked her. "Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Leafpaw drew a deep breath and was about to speak. But at that precise moment, Sandthorn just appeared, looking tired and ash-faced.

"If you're done eating, I'll take that seat, Leafpaw," the curly-haired tom told her. "I'm famished. I've only just finished patrolling."

Leafpaw jumped up as if her chair had just been electrified, gave Sandthorn a brief scared look, and scampered away. Sandthorn looked after where she ran to, sat down, and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.

"Sandthorn! What the hell?" Redpaw spat. "She was gonna tell us something important!"

Halfway through a gulp of tea, Sandthorn choked on whatever he was drinking. Coughing, he rasped, "W-What sort of thing?"

Redpaw meowed, "I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say..."

"Oh, that. Well...that has nothing to do with the Cavern of Secrets," Sandthorn meowed at once.

"How do you know?" Redpaw asked his older brother, his brows raised.

"Well...if you must know, Leafpaw...eh...walked in on me the other day when I was, well..." he trailed off before getting back into focus. "Never you mind. The point is, she spotted me doing something and I...asked her not to mention it to anybody. I have to say, I did think she's keeping her word. It's nothing, really. I'd rather-"

Nightpaw had never seen the pompous tom look so uncomfortable. It was quite new to him.

"So what _were_ you doing?" Redpaw mewed, grinning. "You can tell us. We won't laugh."

Sandthorn didn't smile back. Instead, he meowed to Nightpaw, "Pass me those rolls, please. I'm famished."

**...**

Nightpaw knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he didn't want to pass up a chance to speak to Turtleneck if it turned up. And to his delight it did, in the middle of the morning, when they were being led to History of Warriorism by Gloryhound.

Gloryhound had always assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away. Now he was totally convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His cream-colored wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.

"Mark my words," he meowed smugly, steering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified cat's mouths will be 'Hagrid did it.' Frankly, I'm amazed Thistleheart thinks all these security measures are needed."

"I agree," Nightpaw meowed, making Redpaw drop his books in surprise.

Gloryhound waited until the BadgerClan cats went ahead before meowing kindly, "Thank you, Nightpaw. I mean, we mentors have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking cats to classes and standing guard all night."

Seeming to realize the plan, Redpaw joined in, "I agree, sir. Why don't you leave us here? We've only got one more corridor to go."

"You know, Weasley, I think I will," Gloryhound purred. "I should go and prepare my next class." And he hurried off.

"Prepare his class," Redpaw sneered after him. "More like going to go groom himself."

They let the rest of the LionClan cats draw ahead of them, and they darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Turtleneck's restroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme, they heard a voice call to them.

"Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?"

It was Thistleheart. Her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.

"We were, uh..." Redpaw stammered. "We were going to...go and see..."

"Fawnpaw," Nightpaw added, making Redpaw and Thistleheart both look at him. So he went on hurriedly, stepping on Redpaw's foot, "We haven't seen her for ages, and we thought we'd go to the hospital wing. We were gonna tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and...not to worry."

The Oriental Shorthair mix was still staring at him, and for a moment, Nightpaw thought she was going to yell at him. But when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.

"Of course," she mewed, a tear glistening in her green eye for the first time Nightpaw saw. "Of course, this has all been hardest on the friends of those who were... I understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Franklin where you've gone to. Tell Poppyleaf I gave my permission."

Nightpaw and Redpaw walked away, hardly daring to believe that they avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Thistleheart sniffing as she padded away.

"That," mewed Redpaw eagerly, "was the best story you came up with!"

They had no choice now but to go to the medicine den. They even had to tell Poppyleaf that they had Thistleheart's permission to visit Fawnpaw.

Poppyleaf let them in, but aversely. "There's no point talking to a Petrified cat," she explained.

Nightpaw and Redpaw had to admit the Maine Coon mix had a point when they took their seats next to Fawnpaw. It was plain that the bushy-furred she-cat didn't have the faintest idea that she had visitors, and that they should just tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.

"What if she saw the attacker?" Redpaw mewed, looking sadly at Fawnpaw's rigid face. "If he sneaked up on them all, no one will ever know."

But Nightpaw, for the moment, wasn't looking at Fawnpaw's face. He was more interested in her right front paw. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched under the curled front toes.

Making sure Poppyleaf wasn't nearby, he pointed this out to Redpaw.

"Then get it out," Redpaw whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked his friend from the view of the medicine den.

It wasn't all that easy to get it out. Fawnpaw's right forepaw was clamped so tightly around the paper that Nightpaw thought he was going to tear it. While Redpaw sat guard, he tugged and twisted, and at last, after a few tense minutes, the paper came free. It was a page torn from a very old library book.

Nightpaw smoothed it out eagerly, and Redpaw leaned close to read it too.

_"__Of the many formidable beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or deadly than the Basilisk,__known as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach as long as sixty cats and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, but it was hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most astounding, for aside from its deadly and toxic fangs, the Basilisk has a fatal stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Ants flee before it, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the rooster's crow, which is fatal to it."_

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a paw Nightpaw saw as Fawnpaw's.

_Pipes._

It was as if someone had just flicked a light on in his brain.

"Redpaw," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Cavern is a basilisk. It's a giant snake! That's why I've heard that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Serpustongue."

His friend looked around the other nests. "If it kills someone by looking them in the eyes, why didn't they die?"

Nightpaw replied, "Because no one looked it straight in the eye. Mousepaw saw it through his camera. Finchpaw must've seen the basilisk through Headlesshead Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again. And Fawnpaw and that RavenClan cat were found with a mirror next to them. Fawnpaw had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you she warned the first cat she met to look around corners with a mirror first!"

"And that she-cat pulled out her mirror...and..." Redpaw's jaw dropped. "And Mr. Sniffer?" he whispered eagerly.

"The water..." Nightpaw meowed slowly, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween. "The flood from Carping Turtleneck's restroom. I bet you Mr. Sniffer only saw the reflection."

He scanned the page under his paw eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.

"'The rooster's crow...is fatal to it'!" Nightpaw read aloud. "Badgerstripe's roosters were killed! Viper's Heir didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Cavern was opened! Ants flee before it! It all fits!"

"But how's the basilisk been getting around?" Redpaw asked him. "A giant snake? Someone would've seen it."

Nightpaw, however, pointed at the word Fawnpaw scribbled at the foot of the page. He rasped, "Pipes... Redpaw, it's been using the plumbing. I've been hearing that voice inside the walls."

Redpaw suddenly laid his tail on Nightpaw's shoulder, mewing hoarsely, "The entrance to the Cavern of Secrets! What if it's a restroom? What if it's in-"

"Carping Turtleneck's restroom," Nightpaw replied.

They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it. They had solved the mystery; they now know who was behind the attacks. Now they had to find the mentors and tell them who it was.

Nightpaw rasped, "I can't be the only Serpusmouth in the school. Viper's Heir is one too. That's how he controls the basilisk."

"So what do we do?" Redpaw asked him, whose blue eyes were flashing. "Should we go straight to Thistleheart?"

"We can go to the staff room," Nightpaw told him, jumping up. "She'll be there soon. It's nearly break-time for them."

They left the medicine den in a hurry, thanked Poppyleaf for letting them in, and ran downstairs. Not wanting to be found hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large paneled room full of dark wooden chairs. Nightpaw and Redpaw paced around it, too excited to sit down and think.

But the break bell never came.

Instead, echoing through the corridors came Thistleheart's voice, magically magnified: "All apprentices are to return to their Clan dorms at once. All mentors return to the staff room. At once, please."

Nightpaw wheeled around to stare at Redpaw. "Not another attack? Not now?"

"What'll we do?" Redpaw asked, aghast. "Go back to the dorm?"

"No," the British Shorthair mix told him, glancing around. There was an ugly cupboard to his left, full of the mentors' capes. "Let's get in here. We'll be able to hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we found."

They hid themselves inside, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of cat moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the mentors filtering into the room. Some of them looked puzzled, while others looked downright scared. Then Thistleheart arrived.

"I never knew this would happen. But it has," the head of LionClan told the silent staff room. "A cat has been taken by the monster into the Cavern itself."

Shortlegs let out a squeal, and Sproutflower gasped, her mouth wide open. Brokenfang sunk his claws into a chair very hard and growled, "How can you be sure?"

Sighing, Thistleheart replied, "Viper's Heir left another message right under the first one. It said, 'Her skeleton will lie in the Cavern forever.' "

Shortlegs burst into tears. Redpaw looked on in shock, unsure who it was. Nightpaw was scared to find out who it was.

"Who is it?" Clearwing asked; the gray tabby Asian she-cat had sunk herself weakly into a chair. "Who?"

Thistleheart gulped as if she didn't want to say it. Then she sighed and meowed, "...Leafpaw Weasley."

Nightpaw felt Redpaw slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him. His blue eyes were filled with shock, his claws had sunk themselves into the velvet, and his fur was bristling.

"We will have to send all the apprentices home at dawn," Thistleheart sighed, her voice cracking. "This is the end of the Forest. Silverstar always said that the Forest will stand if united. But now, with him gone..."

The staffroom door banged open once again. For one wild moment, Nightpaw hoped that it was Silverstar, for the leader of the Forest was a comfort to everyone. But it was Gloryhound, and he was beaming in a very smug way.

"So sorry...dozed off. What have I missed?" he meowed. Then, pompously, he added, "I know what you're thinking! You're thankful I drove off the monster for you! 'Long live Gloryhound Lockhart!'"

He didn't seem to notice that the other mentors were glaring at him with something oddly like hatred. They weren't smiling at all, but their eyes (shades of blue, amber, green, or even brown) glittered with hostility towards the mouse-brain. It seemed that Gloryhound cared only about his fame and not about a missing cat.

At last, Brokenfang stepped forward, meowing, "There you are. Just the cat we were looking for. You see, Lockhart, a she-cat has been snatched by the monster, taken into the Cavern of Secrets itself. Your moment of triumph has arrived at last."

Gloryhound went pale.

"That's right," Sproutflower added. "Weren't you saying you knew all along where the entrance to the Cavern of Secrets is?"

The Cornish Rex sputtered, "I...well, I..."

Shortlegs piped up, "Yes, didn't you tell me you knew what was inside it?"

"D-did I? I don't recall..."

"Yes. I remember you saying you didn't get to fight the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Brokenfang meowed silkily. "Didn't you say the whole affair was spoiled, that you should have been given a chance from the first?"

Gloryhound stared around at his hard-faced equals. "I...I really never... You perhaps misread..."

Thistleheart meowed, "All right then, Gloryhound. We'll leave you to it. Tonight will be a good time to do it. We'll make sure everyone doesn't stand in your way. You can tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

Gloryhound gazed urgently around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome any longer. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his generally toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and shabby. And his fur, which was long and cream-colored, was slightly bristling at the thought of that.

"V-very well," he mewled. "I-I'll be in my office...getting ready."

And he left the room.

"Right," Thistleheart meowed, whose nostrils flared. "That got him out from under our fur." She gave another sigh and went on. "The Heads of Clans should go and inform their cats what has happened. Tell them the Forest Train will take them home after dawn. Will the rest of you please make sure no cats have been left outside their dorm?"

The mentors rose and left, one by one. Nightpaw turned to see tears leaking down Redpaw's face. He hated to see his friend upset, but there was nothing to do for a while. What he could do was tell him to buck up and move along. But Nightpaw felt that it would be worse.

**...**

It was probably the worst day of Nightpaw's life. He and the Weasley cats sat together in a corner of the LionClan camp room, unable to say anything to each other. But Sandthorn wasn't there with them. He had gone to send an owl to Weaseltail and Hollywhisker, then he went up the stairs and shut himself up in his dorm.

No afternoon had ever lasted as long as that one, nor had LionClan Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. There was no talking, only sympathetic glances towards the Weasley cats. When sunset was near, Berrytail and Cherrynose went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.

"She knew something," Redpaw rasped, speaking for the first time since they entered the closet in the staff room. "That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Sandthorn after all. She found out something about the Cavern of Secrets. That must be why she was..." The American Shorthair tom rubbed his eyes frantically. "I mean, we're pure American Shorthairs. That means Leafpaw's a pure warrior. There can't be any other reason."

Nightpaw could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline and into the sea beyond the island. This was the worst he had ever felt, even worse than when he cost his Clan first place the year before. If only there was something they could do.

_Anything._

Redpaw interrupted his thoughts by meowing, "Nightpaw, do you think there's a chance she's not...you know..."

Nightpaw sighed, not knowing what to say. He couldn't see how Leafpaw could still be alive.

"You know what?" Redpaw suddenly meowed. "We should go see Gloryhound. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Cavern soon. We can tell him where we think it is and tell him it's a basilisk in there."

Nightpaw was going to object, about to say that Gloryhound was useless. But there was no one else to help them out. And because Nightpaw couldn't think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to do something, he agreed. The LionClan cats around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasley cats, that nobody stopped them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the picture hole.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Gloryhound's office. As they approached, there seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried pawsteps. Nightpaw got to his hind paws and knocked; there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Gloryhound's baby-blue eyes peering through it.

"Oh, Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley..." he mewed, opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment. Be quick, please."

"Sir, we've got some info for you," Nightpaw meowed. "We think it'll help you."

The side of Gloryhound's face they could see had some shock on it. "Well...it's not terribly... I mean...well... All right."

He opened the door and the two toms entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped of its stuff. Two large trunks stood open on the floor, filled completely to the rim. Robes of lime-green, lavender, and midnight blue were hastily folded into one of them; books were mixed-up messily into the other. The photos covering the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" Nightpaw asked him.

"Er, well, yes," the Cornish Rex muttered, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door and starting to roll it up. "Unavoidable call. Got to go."

"What about my sister?" Redpaw snapped angrily.

Gloryhound avoided their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "Well, as to that...most unfortunate. No one regrets more than I do."

"But you're the Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor!" Nightpaw yowled. "You can't go now! Not with all this Dark stuff going on!"

"Well, I must say, when I took the job..." Gloryhound muttered, now piling cat sweaters on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description...I didn't expect..."

Nightpaw glared at him. "You're running away? After all that stuff you did in your books!"

The Cornish Rex meowed delicately, "Books can be misleading."

"You wrote them!" Nightpaw spat.

"My dear sir," Gloryhound lectured, straightening up and frowning at the black cat. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold well if cats didn't think I did all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Ukrainian Levkoy, even if he did save a Russian town from wolves. He'd look awful on the front cover. No sense of class at all. And the she-cat who banished the Botswana Baboon had a harelip. I mean, come on!"

Nightpaw gaped at him, first in disbelief, then in anger. "So you're a fraud! You've been taking credit for what other cats have done!"

"My dear sir," Gloryhound meowed yet again, shaking his head impatiently. "It's not as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these cats down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did."

Redpaw hissed in disgust, "Isn't there anything you CAN do right?"

Gloryhound puffed his chest outward and purred, "Yes, now that you mention it. I'm rather gifted with Memory Charms. Otherwise, you see, all those warriors would have gone blabbing. No, it's been a lot of work, Nightpaw. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know."

He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them up.

"Let's see," he muttered. "I think that's everything. Only one thing left." He pulled out his tail-wand, put it on his tail, and turned to them.

With a manic smile, he hissed, "So sorry, boys, but I'll put a Memory Charm on you now. I can't have you snitching my secrets all over. I'd never sell another book."

But Nightpaw raised his tail-wand just in time. Gloryhound had barely raised his when the black tom bellowed, _"Expelliarmus!"_

The cream-colored tom was blasted backward, falling over his trunk. His tail-wand flew high in the air, spinning like a dead mouse tossed into the air. Redpaw caught it, tore it to bits, and flung it out of the open window.

"I can't believe Brokenfang taught us that one," Nightpaw hissed angrily, jerking Gloryhound's trunk aside. The former mentor was looking up at him, feeble and timid once more. Nightpaw stalked over to him and placed a paw on his chest, pinning him down.

"What do you want me to do?" Gloryhound whimpered weakly. "I don't know where the Cavern of Secrets is. Honest! There's nothing I can do!"

Nightpaw grabbed him by the scruff and forced him to his paws. "You're in luck. _We_ think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Now let's go, fraud."

They marched Gloryhound out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall. Finally, they halted at the door of Carping Turtleneck's restroom. They sent Gloryhound in first, biting him on the tail to make him dart inside the room. Nightpaw was pleased to see that he was shaking; the fraud deserved it for all he did, he thought.

Carping Turtleneck was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Hello, Nightpaw," the pale she-cat mewed, a bit of a smile on her face. "What do you want?"

"To ask you how you died," Nightpaw replied.

Turtleneck's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as if she was never asked such a pleasing question.

She began with delight, "Oh, it was dreadful. It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it well. I hid myself because Olivepad Hornby teased me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and I heard somebody come in. They said something odd. It's like a different language, I think it was. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a tom speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go use his own toilet, and then..." she swelled importantly, her face shining. _"I died."_

"How?"

"I don't know," Turtleneck replied in hushed tones. "I remember seeing a pair of great big red eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away." She looked dreamily at Nightpaw. "And I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olivepad Hornby. Oh, she was sorry she laughed at my glasses."

Nightpaw tilted his head to one side. "Where did you see the eyes?"

Pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet, she replied, "Over by that sink."

Nightpaw and Redpaw hurried over to it. Gloryhound was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face. Redpaw turned around, grabbed him by the scruff, and pulled him back to where they were.

It looked just like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Nightpaw saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny thin snake.

"The tap never works," Turtleneck told him brightly as he tried to turn it.

Redpaw nudged him suddenly, making him face him. "Say something in Serpustongue."

"But..." Nightpaw thought hard. The only times he had ever managed to speak Serpustongue were when he came in contact a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny carving, trying to imagine it was real.

"Open," he meowed.

He looked at Redpaw, who shook his head. "That's English," he corrected.

Nightpaw looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as if it were moving. Now it was now or never.

In a hissing voice, he rasped, _"Open."_

Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him. But at once, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed. The pipe was wide enough for a grown Twoleg to slide into.

"Well done, you two," Gloryhound praised them, with a shadow of his old smile. "Well, there's no need for me to stay, then!"

He put his paw on the door knob, but the two toms both surrounded him.

Redpaw hissed, his teeth bared, "Oh, yes there is!"

Nightpaw looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.

"I'll go down there," he mewed.

He couldn't not go, now that they had found the entrance to the Cavern. He couldn't give up if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Leafpaw might still be alive.

"Me too," Redpaw meowed.

There was a pause.

Gloryhound muttered, "Well, you can go ahead without me," and started to back away.

"You can go first," Redpaw snarled.

White-faced and tail-wandless, Gloryhound approached the opening. His voice feeble, he squeaked, "Boys, what good will it do?"

Nightpaw nudged him in the back with his head. The cream-furred Cornish Rex slid his legs into the pipe.

"I really don't think-" he started to say, but Redpaw gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. There was silence before they heard him meow, "It really _is_ quite dirty down here."

Nightpaw stuck a forepaw on the pipe, meowing, "All right. Here we go."

"Oh Nightpaw." Turtleneck's mew made Nightpaw turn to see her blushing silver. "If you die down there, you're welcome to share my latrine."

"Um...thanks," Nightpaw thanked her while Redpaw looked disgusted.

He looked down through the tunnel, imagining where it would end. But there was no time for thinking when someone would die at any moment. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then he let go.

It was like rushing down an endless slimy dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none were as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping downward. He knew he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him, he could hear Redpaw, thudding slightly at the curves and screeching.

And then, just when he began to worry about what would happen if he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out. He shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel big enough to stand in. Gloryhound was already on his four paws a few rat-lengths away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Nightpaw stood aside as Redpaw came whizzing out of the pipe too.

"We must be miles under the school," Nightpaw meowed, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, maybe," Redpaw told him, squinting around at the dark slimy walls.

All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.

_"__Lumos!"_ Nightpaw muttered to his tail-wand, and it lit again.

"Let's go," he commanded the other two.

And off they went, their pawsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor. The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the tail-wand light.

As they padded cautiously along, Nightpaw told the two other toms, "Remember: Any sign of movement, close your eyes at once."

But the tunnel was quiet as a grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Redpaw stepped on what turned out to be a mouse skull. Nightpaw lowered his tail-wand to look at the floor and saw it littered with animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Leafpaw would look like if they found her, Nightpaw led the way forward around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Nightpaw. There's something up there," Redpaw moaned hoarsely.

The cats froze, watching. Nightpaw could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving; it looked like it was dead.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back at the other two. Gloryhound had closed his blue eyes very shut, as if it was going to move any minute. Nightpaw turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt his chest.

Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them see, Nightpaw edged forward, his tail-wand held high. The light slid over a titanic snakeskin, a bright toxic green snakeskin, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been around as long as thirty Twolegs at least.

Nightpaw gasped. "It's...it's a snakeskin!"

Redpaw also gasped. "Bloody hell! That thing must be sixty cat-lengths long!"

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gloryhound's knees had given way and he had fainted.

"Heart of a lion, this one," Redpaw mewed sarcastically. Pointing his tail-wand at Gloryhound, he hissed, "Get up."

Gloryhound got to his paws...and tackled Redpaw, banging him to the ground. Nightpaw jumped forward, but it was too late. The Cornish Rex was straightening up, panting, with Redpaw's tail-wand on his tail and a gleaming smile back on his face. His smooth fur had just given way to the crinkly fur his breed usually had.

"The adventure ends here!" he hissed franticly, foaming at the mouth as he pointed the tail-wand at Nightpaw. "I'll take a bit of this skin back up to the school all by myself. But don't fret! The whole world will know the story! How I was too late to save the she-cat and how you two sadly lost your minds at the sight of her crushed body. You first, Mr. Potter. Say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised Redpaw's taped tail-wand high over his head and yelled, _"Obliviate!"_

The tail-wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Nightpaw lowered his head down and ran, slipping over coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment he knew, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.

"Redpaw!" he called. "Are you okay? Redpaw!"

"Yeah!" came Redpaw's muffled meow from behind the rockslide. "I'm okay! This idiot's not. He got blasted by the tail-wand."

"Hello," Gloryhound's happy mew rang out. "Who are you?"

A pause. Then... "Redpaw Weasley."

Gloryhound replied, "Good. And...who am I?"

"Nightpaw, his Memory Charm backfired!" Redpaw called to Nightpaw. "He doesn't know who he is now!"

"Odd place, isn't it?" Gloryhound mewed. "Do you live here?"

Another pause. Then... "No."

Gloryhound replied, "Ah. ...really?"

There was a dull thud and a loud "Ow!" It sounded as if Redpaw had grabbed a rock and bonked him on the head with it.

"Now what?" Redpaw's voice called, sounding frantic. "We can't get through! It'll take ages!"

Nightpaw looked up at the tunnel ceiling and sniffed towards it. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now this didn't seem to be a good moment to try it. What if the whole tunnel caved in right now?

There was another thud and another "Ow!" from behind the rocks. They were wasting time now. Leafpaw had already been in the Cavern of Secrets for hours. Nightpaw knew there was only one thing to do. He hated to do it, but there was no choice.

"Wait there," he called. "I'll go alone. If I'm not back in an hour..."

There was a very charged pause before the silence was broken. "I'll try moving some of these rocks," Redpaw called, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. "So you can...get back through. And Nightpaw...be careful out there."

Trying to insert some sureness into his shaking mew, Nightpaw replied, "Okay. See you later."

And he set off alone past the giant snakeskin.

Soon, the distant noise of Redpaw straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned over and again. Every nerve in Nightpaw's body was tingling unpleasantly and each hair on his pelt bristled with each step. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet he dreaded what he would find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two knotted snakes were carved, their eyes set with great glinting emeralds.

Nightpaw approached them with caution, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive to him. He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

_"__Open,"_ Nightpaw hissed in a low faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. Nightpaw, who was shaking from ear tip to claw, padded into the Cavern of Secrets.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: You wanna say the review thing now, Ginny?**

**Ginny: Sure. Just to get this Chamber Of Secrets rubbish out of the way. I really hated reading that part.**

**AvatarCat11: Don't worry. You and Harry will get to read along together on the next chapter. Speaking of that, the next chapter will be the second to last chapter of this story.**

**Ginny: And thank God for that! Anyways... (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this chapter will receive a virtual plush doll of their favorite or least favorite character in their cat form. Flames will be used to burn Riddle's diary, and constructive criticism is allowed as long as it's not too harsh.**

**AvatarCat11 and Ginny: See ya next time!**


	17. Viper's Heir

**AvatarCat11: All right, everyone. This is it. It's the moment of the climax of the Cavern Of Secrets! I'm almost done with this story since this is the second-to-last chapter. You all excited?**

**Harry: I am. I just want this story done with.**

**Ginny: Me too. (Shivers) I just want to get the Cavern part done and over with.**

**Harry: (Kisses her gently) It's all right, love. It's all in the past.**

**AvatarCat11: He's right, Ginny. You know what Timon and Pumbaa say: You gotta put the past behind you.**

**Ginny: You're right. And will the Golden Trio come over for the final chapter?**

**Harry: Sure we can. And I'll go ahead with the disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter own all rights to Harry Potter and Warrior Cats. AvatarCat's adjusting us HP people to be cats on there.**

**Updating Date: December 9, 2011**

**AvatarCat11, Harry, and Ginny: Enjoy!**

**...**

_Viper's Heir_

The black tomcat was standing at the end of a long dark chamber. High stone pillars entwined with more carved snakes raised to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd green gloom that filled the place. His heart beating very fast, Nightpaw stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Leafpaw?

Nightpaw raised his tail-wand and moved forward between the winding columns. Every careful pawstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his green eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him, watching him. More than once, with a jolt of the belly, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Cavern itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Nightpaw had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and weasel-like, with long thin beard-like fur that fell almost to the bottom of the warrior's sweeping cape, where two huge gray paws stood on the smooth Cavern floor. And between the feet, prostrate, lay a small black-caped figure with a flaming-red pelt.

"Leafpaw!" Nightpaw muttered, dashing to her and bending down. "Leafpaw...don't be dead! Please don't be dead!" He flung his tail-wand aside, grabbed the ginger she-cat's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was pale ginger like orange marble and cold, yet her brown eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be...

Leafpaw's head lolled hopelessly from side to side as Nightpaw shook her, mewing desperately, "Please wake up, Leafpaw!"

"She won't wake up," a soft voice mewed.

Nightpaw jumped up and spun around on his paws. A tall black-pelted tomcat with amber eyes and a missing tail was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as if Nightpaw were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.

"P-Pantherclaw Riddle?"

The other black cat nodded, not taking his amber eyes off Nightpaw's face.

Nightpaw meowed urgently, "What do you mean, she won't wake? She's not...is she?"

Pantherclaw replied, "She's still alive. But only just."

Nightpaw stared at him. Pantherclaw had been at the Forest fifty years ago, so he also must have died a long time ago. Yet here he stood, a weird misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.

"Are you a ghost?" Nightpaw asked him uncertainly.

"No. I am a memory," the Manx mix replied quietly. "Well-kept in a journal for fifty years."

He pointed his muzzle at the floor near the statue's giant claws. Lying open there was the little black journal Nightpaw found in Carping Turtleneck's restroom. For a wild second, Nightpaw wondered how it had got there...but there was something else they had to think about.

Raising Leafpaw's head, Nightpaw mmurmured to himself, "She's cold as ice." To Pantherclaw, he meowed, "Look, you've got to help me, Pantherclaw. We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk here. I don't know where it is, but it could come here any moment. Please, help me."

Pantherclaw didn't move. Nightpaw, panting hard, managed to hoist Leafpaw half off the floor, and bent to pick up his tail-wand again.

But his tail-wand was gone. "Did you see my...?"

He looked up. Pantherclaw was still watching him, twirling Nightpaw's tail-wand between his long front toes. Nightpaw murmured his tanks before stepping forward to accept it.

However, a thin smile curled at the corners of Pantherclaw's mouth. He continued to stare at Nightpaw, twirling the tail-wand idly.

"Look," Nightpaw told him urgently, his paws sagging under Leafpaw's weight. "We've got to go! If the basilisk comes-"

"It won't come until it is called," the Manx mix mewed calmly.

Nightpaw lowered Leafpaw back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer. "What do you mean by that? Just give me my tail-wand! I might need it!"

Pantherclaw's grin widened. "Oh, you won't need it," he mewed with a hiss.

"What do you mean?"

"I've waited a long time for this, Nightpaw Potter," Pantherclaw told him. "For the chance to see you. To talk with you."

Losing patience, Nightpaw snapped, "I don't think you get it. We're in the Cavern of Secrets. We'll talk later."

Pantherclaw put Nightpaw's tail-wand in a bag and retorted, still smiling, "No. We'll talk now."

Nightpaw stared at him in shock and disbelief. There was something funny going on with this cat.

"How did she get like this?" he asked Pantherclaw slowly.

"Well, that's an interesting question," Pantherclaw replied nicely. "And a long story. I suppose the real reason Leafpaw Weasley is like this is she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

Nightpaw just stared at him. "What the hell are you meowing about?"

Pantherclaw replied, "It's the journal. My journal. Young Leafpaw has written in it for moons, telling me all her worries and woes...how her brothers tease her...how she had to come to school with used capes and books, how..." his amber eyes glinted "...she didn't think the famous and great Nightpaw Potter would ever like her."

All the time he spoke, his eyes never left Nightpaw's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the trivial problems of an eleven-year-old she-cat," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I understood, for I was kind. Leafpaw simply loved me." He started mimicking her voice, "'No one understands me like you, Riddle. I'm so glad I've got this journal to tell my secrets to. It's like having a friend I can carry around in my bag.'"

Pantherclaw laughed, a high cold laugh that didn't suit his voice. It made the hairs stand up on Nightpaw's pelt.

Pantherclaw went on, "If I say so myself, Nightpaw, I've always charmed the cats I needed. So Leafpaw poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be what I wanted. I grew stronger while she grew weaker. I grew powerful enough to start feeding her a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her."

"What do you mean?" Nightpaw mewed again, whose mouth went very dry.

"Haven't you guessed yet?" Pantherclaw hissed softly. "Leafpaw opened the Cavern of Secrets."

Nightpaw stepped backwards, unable to bear it. "No. She wouldn't!"

Pantherclaw sneered, "Oh yes. She killed the school roosters and smeared threatening messages on the walls with the roosters' blood. She set the Snake of ViperClan on four kittybloods and the rogue's ferret."

"But...why?"

"Because I told her to," Pantherclaw meowed. "Of course, she didn't know what she did at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could see her new diary entries. They became far more interesting. 'Dear Riddle,'" he recited, watching Nightpaw's horrified face, "'I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my pelt and I don't know how they got there. Dear Riddle, I can't recall what I did on the night of Halloween, but a ferret was attacked and I've got paint all on my chest. Dear Riddle, Sandthorn keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me. There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Riddle, what do I do? I think I'm going insane! I think I'm attacking everyone, Riddle!'"

Nightpaw hissed loudly, his claws digging deep into the ground. How dare he mock her and not feel sorry?

"It took a long time for stupid Leafpaw to stop trusting me," Pantherclaw went on. "But soon, she became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the cats who could have picked it up, it was you. The very cats I wanted to meet most of all, Potter."

"Why did you want to meet me?" the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix spat. Anger was flowing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.

Pantherclaw replied, "Well, you see, Leafpaw told me all about you. Your whole _charming_ past." His eyes roved over the white lightning scar on Nightpaw's forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. "I knew I had to find out more, talk to you, and meet you if I could. So I showed you my well-known capture of that great fool, Hagrid, to gain your trust."

His voice shaking with anger, Nightpaw snarled, "Badgerstripe's my friend! And you set him up, didn't you?"

Pantherclaw laughed a second time, his laugh high and cold again.

"It was my word against his," he retorted. "You can imagine how it looked to old Russetstar. On one paw, Pantherclaw Riddle, poor but bright, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model cat. On the other paw, big blundering Hagrid, in trouble every day, trying to raise wolf cubs under his nest, sneaking off to the Forbidden Swamp to fight with alligators. But I admit, I was surprised to see how well the plan worked. I thought someone realized that Hagrid couldn't be Viper's Heir. It took me five years to find out everything I could about the Cavern and find the entrance. As if he had the brains or power! Only the Transfiguration mentor, Silverstar Dumbledore, seemed to think he was innocent. He convinced Russetstar to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think he might have guessed. Silverstar never liked me as much as the other mentors did."

"I bet he saw right through you," Nightpaw hissed, his teeth gritted.

Pantherclaw sneered carelessly, "Well, he did keep a gallingly close eye on me after Hagrid was exiled. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Cavern again while I was still at the Forest. But I was not going to waste those long years I spent searching for it. So I decided to leave behind a journal, keeping my sixteen-year-old ego in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my pawsteps. And I would get to lead another to finish Viper Slytherin's noble work."

Nightpaw sneered triumphantly, "Well, you won't get to finish it. No one died this time, not even the ferret. In a few hours, the Mandrake Draught will be ready, and everyone who was Petrified will be okay again!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Pantherclaw hissed quietly. "Murdering kittybloods doesn't matter to me anymore. Now, my new target...is you."

Nightpaw stared at him.

Pantherclaw continued, "Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Leafpaw writing to me, not you. She saw you with the journal and panicked. What if you knew how to work it and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if I told you who was killing the roosters? So the stupid brat waited until your dorm was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I had to do. It was clear you were on the trail of the heir of Viper. From everything she told me about you, I knew you would do anything to solve the mystery, mostly if one of your best friends was hurt. And Leafpaw told me the whole school was bustling because you could speak Serpustongue."

He gave a low evil-sounding chuckle and went on.

"So I made Leafpaw write her farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She flailed and cried and became boring. But there isn't much life left. She put too much in the journal, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last. The process is almost complete. In minutes, Leafpaw will be dead, and I will cease to be a memory. Red Helmet will return_...alive." _He laughed evilly before going on, "I have waited for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you would come. I have many questions for you, Potter."

"Like what?" Nightpaw snarled, his teeth still bared.

Smiling nicely, Pantherclaw mewed, "How is it that you, a kit with no good talent, had beaten the greatest warrior ever? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while the powers of Red Helmet were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now. Nightpaw wondered whether he had seen it before.

He meowed slowly, "Why do you care how I escaped? Red Helmet was after your time."

"Wrong," Pantherclaw hissed softly. "He is my past, present, and future."

He pulled Nightpaw's tail-wand from his bag and began to trace it through the air, writing two shimmering words:

_PANTHERCLAW RIDDLE_

Then he waved the tail-wand once, and the letters of his name dissolved into:

_I AM RED HELMET_

Nightpaw gasped when he saw Pantherclaw's reflection in a puddle of water. Instead of the black cat, there was instead a massive dark figure growling with bloodlust. It had long claws, razor-sharp teeth, a red patch running from its head to its rump, and small glowing red eyes.

He gasped, "You! You're Viper's Heir. You're Red Helmet."

"Yes," Pantherclaw whispered. "Surely you'd think I would my filthy kittypet father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs Viper Slytherin's blood himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul kittypet, who left me before I was born, just because he found out his mate was a wildcat? No, I made a new name, a name I knew cats all over the place would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest warrior in the world!"

"Silverstar Dumbledore is the greatest warrior in the world!" Nightpaw spat. "Everyone says so! Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try to take over the Forest. He saw through you when you were at school and he still scares you, wherever you're hiding these days!"

The grin had gone from Pantherclaw's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. "Dumbledore has been driven out of here by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He won't be gone!" Nightpaw retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Pantherclaw, wishing rather than believing it was true. "Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him!"

Pantherclaw opened his jaws, but he froze. Nightpaw's brain seemed to have jammed. He stared dazedly at the cackling tomcat, at the cat who grew up to murder Nightpaw's parents and so many others, at the cat who would someday be transformed into a massive killer bear.

Music was coming from somewhere. The Manx mix whirled around to stare down the empty Cave tunnel. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, and weird; it lifted the hairs on Nightpaw's ears and made his heart feel like it was swelling to twice its size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Nightpaw felt it vibrating in his ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

A scarlet-red bird the size of a golden eagle had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a dazzling golden tail as long as a peacock's tail, and it had shiny golden talons, which were gripping a raggedy bundle. Seconds later, the bird was flying straight at Nightpaw. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his paws, and then it landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Nightpaw looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Nightpaw, gazing steadily at Pantherclaw.

"It's a phoenix." The black cat hissed, staring shrewdly back at it.

"R-Roku?" Nightpaw breathed. He felt the bird's golden talons squeeze his shoulder softly.

Now eyeing the ragged thing that Roku dropped, Pantherclaw added, "And that's the old school Sorting Collar."

So it was. Repaired, worn, and dull, the collar lay still at Nightpaw's front feet.

Pantherclaw began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark tunnel rang with it, like ten of him was laughing at once. "This is what Dumbledore sends his guardian! A songbird and a collar! Do you feel brave now, Potter? Do you feel safe?"

Nightpaw didn't answer. He couldn't see what use Roku or the Sorting Collar were, but he was no longer alone. He waited for Pantherclaw to stop laughing with his courage rising.

"Down to business, Potter," Pantherclaw meowed, still smiling broadly. "Twice, in your past and in my future, we have met. And I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you live for now."

Nightpaw started thinking fast, weighing his chances. Pantherclaw had the tail-wand now while Nightpaw had Roku and the Sorting Collar, neither of which would be much good in a fight. It looked bad, but the longer Pantherclaw stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Leafpaw.

And in the meantime, Nightpaw noticed something odd. Pantherclaw's outline was becoming clearer, more solid. If it had to be a fight between him and Pantherclaw, if would have to be better sooner than later.

"No one knows why you lost your powers when you tried to kill me," Nightpaw began abruptly. "I don't even know that myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. My mother died to save me. My common kittypet-born mother," he added, shaking with stifled fury. "She stopped you from killing me. And I've seen the real you; I saw you last year! You're a shell of your former self. You're barely alive! That's where your power got you! You're in hiding! You're horrible, you're rotten, and you're nothing but a murdering bastard!"

Pantherclaw's face contorted. It looked like he was going to attack him right there and then.

Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So your mother died to save you. Yes, that's powerful. I see it now. There is nothing special about you, after all. There are strange similarities between us. Even you must have noticed. Both half-breeds, strays, raised by kittypets. We are perhaps the only two Serpusmouths to come to the Forest since Viper himself. We even look alike. But after all, it was a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Nightpaw stood tense, waiting for Pantherclaw to leap at him with claws unsheathed. But the other black cat's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now...let's match the powers of Red Helmet, Viper Slytherin's Heir, against famous Nightpaw Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him."

He cast an amused eye over Roku and the Sorting Collar, and then he padded away. Nightpaw, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Pantherclaw stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Viper, high above him in the half-darkness. The Manx mix opened his jaws wide and hissed...but Nightpaw understood what he was saying.

_"__Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of warrior cats."_

Nightpaw turned around to look up at the statue, Roku swaying on his shoulder.

Viper's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Nightpaw saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was moving inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths of despair.

The British Shorthair mix backed away until he hit the dark Cave wall, and as he shut his eyes tight, he felt Roku's wing grave his cheek as he took flight. Nightpaw wanted to shout after him to not leave him, but what chance did a phoenix have against the snake king?

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Cave. Nightpaw felt it shudder; he knew what was now happening. He could sense it, almost see the giant snake unraveling itself from Viper's mouth. Then he heard Pantherclaw's hissing voice:

_"__Kill him."_

The basilisk was moving toward Nightpaw; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, the young black cat began running blindly to the side, his whiskers quivering and feeling his way. Red Helmet was now laughing.

Nightpaw tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood the serpent was barely fox-lengths from him, he could hear it coming. Pantherclaw was yowling, "Serpusmouth won't save you now, Potter. The basilisk only listens to me!"

There was a loud explosive spitting sound right above him, and something heavy hit Nightpaw so hard he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body, he heard some hissing, something thrashing violently off the pillars. He couldn't help it; he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.

The enormous snake, bright toxic green and thick as an oak tree, had raised itself high in the air. Its great blunted head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Nightpaw trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the serpent.

Roku was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping angrily at him with fangs long and thin as sabers. Fawkes dived, his long golden beak sinking out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattering the floor. The serpent's tail thrashed, just missing Nightpaw, and before he could shut his eyes, it turned. Nightpaw looked up into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great round yellow eyes, had been stabbed by the phoenix. Blood was streaming to the floor, and the serpent was spitting in agony.

_"__NO!"_ Nightpaw heard Pantherclaw screech. At Nightpaw, he roared, "Your bird might've blinded my basilisk, but it can still hear you AND smell you!"

The blinded snake swayed, confused, still deadly. Roku was circling its head, singing his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

"Help me..." Nightpaw muttered wildly. "Someone...anyone..."

Noticing a hole in the statue, he scrambled to his paws and raced over there, his paws sending up splashes of water as he ran. Behind him, the basilisk roared and followed him in, while Nightpaw could feel its hot foul breath hit his fur. When he reached the hole, he climbed inside with the basilisk behind him. But the first tunnel he turned to was a dead end.

Nightpaw backed away as the basilisk's snout came within mouse-lengths from him. But then he noticed something: a lone pebble. He picked it up in his jaws and tossed it to another tunnel, making a loud clanking sound. The basilisk hissed softly when it heard the sound, and then it slithered away from Nightpaw to try and find it.

Thankful it was out of the way, Nightpaw watched until it disappeared before leaving the dead end. He leaped out of the hole he went through to get into the statue and ran over to Leafpaw. She was still not awake, and she was looking paler by the minute.

_Leafpaw..._

Suddenly, shards of rock flew everywhere as the basilisk burst out of the statue of Viper. The serpent's tail whipped across the floor again, but Nightpaw ducked. However, something soft hit him on the face.

The basilisk had swept the Sorting Collar into Nightpaw's forepaws. He quickly seized it, for it was all he had left, his only chance. He rammed it over his head and onto his neck, and he threw himself flat on the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over him again.

_Help me..._ Nightpaw thought, his eyes tightly shut as the collar brushed against his pelt. _Please help me._

There was no answering voice. Instead, the collar contracted, as if an invisible paw was hugging it very tightly.

Something very sharp and heavy sliced off the hairs around Nightpaw's neck, almost killing him. Bending his head low, he grabbed the top of the collar to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.

A gleaming silver dagger had appeared inside the collar, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs. It was like a mini sword, but it could be useful for a cat.

_"__KILL THE CAT! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE CAT IS BEHIND YOU! HEAR HIM! SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"_

Nightpaw was on his paws, ready with the dagger in his jaws. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around and hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide enough to swallow him whole. It was lined with fangs long as his dagger, thin, glittering, and venomous.

The giant basilisk lunged blindly; however, Nightpaw leaped up onto the statue and it hit the wall. It lunged once again, and its forked tongue lashed Nightpaw's side. Quickly, he climbed up to the top of the statue and raised the dagger high into the air.

The basilisk lunged again, and this time, its aim was true. Nightpaw threw his weight behind the dagger and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the snake's mouth. This made the basilisk roar in pain as the blade sunk deep into the roof of its mouth, blood and other stuff spilling.

But as warm blood drenched Nightpaw's head, he felt a searing pain just above his left elbow. One long toxic fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his shoulder and it broke away from its huge owner. The basilisk keeled over sideways and roared wildly in pain as it fell, twitching, to the floor, dead.

Nightpaw slid down the statue and landed clumsily onto his four paws. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his shoulder, blood leaking out from it. But he knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound and through his foreleg. Even when he dropped the fang and watched his blood soaking his fur, his vision went foggy. The Cave was softening in a whirl of dull color.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Nightpaw heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. He knew who that was.

"Roku," Nightpaw rasped. "You were awesome..."

He could hear echoing pawsteps, and then a dark shadow moved in front of him. The scent of Pantherclaw filled his nose.

"You're dead, Potter," the other black cat sneered above him. "Dead. Even the bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing? He's crying."

Nightpaw looked weakly up and blinked. Roku's head slid in and out of focus. Thick shining tears were trickling down the shiny crimson feathers.

Pantherclaw gave a harsh laugh before mewing, "I guess I can sit here and watch you die, Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Nightpaw felt drowsy and dizzy. Everything around him looked like it was spinning. He slowly crawled over to where Leafpaw was and collapsed beside her, holding one of her paws.

"Now here comes the end of the famous Nightpaw Potter," Pantherclaw's distant voice sneered. "Alone in the Cavern of Secrets, rejected by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Bear he rashly challenged. Remarkable, isn't it, how quickly the venom of the Basilisk penetrates the body? I guess you have a minute to live. You'll be back with your kittyblood mother soon. She bought you twelve years of time. But I got you in the end, as you knew I must."

If this is dying, it didn't feel so bad. Even the pain was leaving him...

_But am I dying?_

Instead of going black, the Cave seemed to be coming back into focus. Nightpaw gave his head a little shake and there was Roku, still resting his head on Nightpaw's foreleg. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound...except that the wound was gone.

Pantherclaw was hissing, "What are you doing, bird? Get away from him! I said, get away!"

Nightpaw raised his head. Pantherclaw was pointing Nightpaw's tail-wand at Roku. There was a crack like a whip, and Roku was flying away again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Huh... Phoenix tears," Pantherclaw mewed, staring at Nightpaw's left foreleg. "Healing powers... I forgot about that." He looked into Nightpaw's face and added, "But no matter. In fact, I want it that way. Just you and me, Potter. You and me. Funny, the damage a silly book can do, especially in the paws of a silly kit. "

He raised the tail-wand...

Then, in a rush of wings, Roku had soared back above and something fell in front of Nightpaw: the journal. For a split second, both black cats, one with the tail-wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, as if he had meant to do it all along, Nightpaw seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him, opened it up, and plunged it straight into one of the pages.

"What the-? No! NO!" Pantherclaw spat.

There was a long dreadful piercing screech of pain. Ink was bleeding out the journal in torrents, streaming over Nightpaw's forepaws and flooding the floor. Pantherclaw had glowing holes all over his body as he tried to lunge at Nightpaw. But the younger cat was ready; he closed the book and plunged the fang deep into the core of the book. Now Pantherclaw was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing, and then...

He was gone. Nightpaw's tail-wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady dripping sound of ink still oozing from the journal. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it. Shaking all over, Nightpaw pulled himself up. His head was spinning as if he just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his tail-wand and the Sorting Collar, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering dagger from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.

Then a faint moan came from the end of the Cave; Leafpaw was stirring. As Nightpaw ran over to her, she sat up. Her puzzled eyes went from the form of the dead basilisk, over Nightpaw, in his blood-soaked pelt, then to the journal in his hand. She drew a small sigh and tears began to pour down her face.

"Nightpaw...I tried to tell you at breakfast, but I couldn't say it in front of Sandthorn. It _was_ me, Nightpaw, but I-I swear I d-didn't mean to. P-Pantherclaw made me. He possessed me and...how did you kill...that thing? W-Where did Pantherclaw go? The last thing I r-recall is him coming out of the journal..."

Showing her the journal and the fang hole, Nightpaw meowed, "It's all right. It's over. He was just a memory. Pantherclaw's finished. He and the basilisk. C'mon, let's get out of here."

Leafpaw croaked as Nightpaw helped her clumsily to her paws. "I'm gonna be ex-exiled, aren't I? I've looked forward to coming to Forest ever since B-Birdstorm came here. N-now I'll have to leave and...w-what'll Mom and Dad say?"

"You won't be," Nightpaw assured her.

Roku had been waiting for them, hovering in the entrance of the Cave. Nightpaw urged Leafpaw forward; they stepped over the lifeless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Nightpaw heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

After some progress up the dark tunnel, a sound of shifting rock reached Nightpaw's ears. The Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix saw who it was right away.

"Redpaw!" Nightpaw called, speeding up. "Leafpaw's okay! I've got her!"

He heard Redpaw give a repressed cheer, and they turned the next bend to see where he was. His excited face was staring through the sizable gap he managed to make in the rock fall.

"Leafpaw!" Redpaw thrust foreleg through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. Nightpaw looked through the hole to see his friend embracing his little sister tightly; Leafpaw's body was wracking with stifled sobs. "You're alive! I can't believe it! What happened? How...wait a sec. Where'd that bird come from?"

For Roku had swooped through the gap after the little American Shorthair.

"He's Silverstar's bird. His name is Roku," Nightpaw explained, squeezing through himself.

Gaping at the glittering weapon in Nightpaw's mouth, Redpaw asked, "How come you've got a sword?"

Looking aside at Leafpaw, whose face was stained by tears, Nightpaw meowed, "I'll explain it all when we get out of here. And it's a dagger, not a sword."

"But..."

"Later," Nightpaw retorted curtly. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell Redpaw yet who was opening the Cave, not in front of Leafpaw. "Where's Gloryhound?"

With a puzzled look but jerking his head up the tunnel towards the pipe, Redpaw meowed, "Back there. But he's still in a bad way. Come and see."

Led by Roku, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they prowled all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gloryhound was just sitting there, purring calmly to himself.

"His memory's gone," Redpaw explained to Leafpaw. "The Memory Charm backfired. It hit him instead of us. He hasn't got a clue who he is, where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself now."

Gloryhound peered pleasantly up at them all and meowed to Nightpaw, "Hello. Odd place, isn't it? Do you live here?"

"No," Nightpaw meowed, bending down and looking up the long dark pipe. "Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?" he asked Redpaw.

Redpaw shook his head, but the phoenix had swooped past Nightpaw and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers at them, looking back at them with some determined look. Nightpaw looked uncertainly at him.

Puzzled, Redpaw mewed, "He looks like he wants you to grab hold. But you're too heavy for a bird to pull up there."

Nightpaw explained, "Roku isn't just your average bird." He turned quickly to the others. "We have to hold on to each other. Leafpaw, grab Redpaw's tail. Gloryhound..."

"He means you," Redpaw told Gloryhound sharply.

"You hold Leafpaw's tail."

Nightpaw tucked the dagger into the Sorting Collar and put the collar around his neck. Redpaw took hold of the black tom's tail, and Nightpaw reached out and took hold of Roku's strangely warm tail feathers.

An extraordinary grace seemed to spread through his whole body, and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. Nightpaw could hear Gloryhound yowling from below, "Amazing! It's just like magic!" The chill air was whipping through his long fur, and before he stopped enjoying the ride, it was over.

All four cats had arrived in Carping Turtleneck's restroom, landing on the wet floor. As the Cornish Rex straightened his hat he had brought along, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

Turtleneck goggled at them. "You're alive," she mewed blankly to Nightpaw.

"Don't sound so disappointed," the Maine Coon mix meowed grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime away from his eyes.

"Oh, well," Turtleneck mewed, blushing silver. "I was just thinking. You'd still be welcome to share my toilet if you died down there."

As they left the bathroom for the dark deserted corridor outside, Redpaw made a face of disgust before meowing to Nightpaw "I think Turtleneck likes you now! You've got some competition, Leafpaw!"

But tears were flooding silently down Leafpaw's face as she hung her head.

"Where now?" Redpaw asked with an anxious look at his sister.

Nightpaw pointed his muzzle up ahead. Roku was leading the way, glowing golden along the hall. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Silverstar's office. He had no idea if Silverstar was back yet, but if a trustworthy warrior was there, they could be able to help out.

Bracing himself, Nightpaw knocked and pushed the door open.

_To be continued..._

**...**

**AvatarCat11: We're almost there, everyone! The end of the book is almost here! Oh, and Ginny, you happy the Cavern is behind now?**

**Ginny: (Sounding happier) You bet! And thanks, Harry, for saving me in my first year.**

**Harry: (Hugs her tight) It's no problem, Ginny. It's no problem at all.**

**AvatarCat11: Good to see you and your love together, but let's get on with the summary.**

**Harry: You're right; sorry. (To the readers) If anyone reads and reviews this chapter, they will receive virtual chocolate bars with the basilisk on them or a basilisk plush doll. The same goes for Fawkes...or in this case, Roku.**

**Ginny: The end of The Cavern Of Secrets is nearly here! So any flames will be tossed into the Chamber of Secrets. Constructive criticism is allowed, as long as it's not harsh.**

**AvatarCat11, Harry, and Ginny: See ya next time!**


	18. Bobby's Reward

**AvatarCat11: Well, this is it, everyone! This is the final chapter of Nightfang And The Cavern Of Secrets!**

**Harry: I'm glad we got this far already! And I'm glad this year was over quick!**

**Ron: Me too.**

**Hermione: Me three.**

**Ginny: And me four! So who gets to say the disclaimer and summary this time? (All think for a bit before she says) How about you, AvatarCat?**

**AvatarCat11: ME? (All four nod) Well...sure. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I will never own Harry Potter or Warrior Cats. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Erin Hunter, their respective owners.**

**Updating Date: December 9, 2011**

**Everyone: Enjoy the last chapter!**

**...**

_Bobby's Reward_

For a moment, there was silence as all four cats stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Nightpaw's case) blood. Then there was a scream, shouting for Leafpaw.

"Leafpaw!"

It was Hollywhisker, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her paws, at once followed by Weaseltail, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.

Nightpaw, however, was looking past them. Silverstar had returned at last, standing by the ledge, smiling, next to Thistleheart, who was taking great steadying gasps. Roku went rocketing past the black cat's ear and settled on Silverstar's shoulder, just as the toms of the Golden Trio being swept into Hollywhisker's tight embrace.

"You saved her, you two! How did you do it?"

"I think we'd all like to know that," Thistleheart gasped weakly.

Hollywhisker let go of Nightpaw, who hesitated for a moment. Then he padded over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Collar, the ruby-encrusted dagger, and the remains of Pantherclaw's journal.

Then he started telling the other cats everything. For nearly twenty-five minutes, he spoke in the absorbed silence. He told them about hearing the ghostly voice, how Fawnpaw finally realized that he heard a basilisk in the pipes. Nightpaw also told of how he and Redpaw had followed the ants into the swamp, where Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; he told how he had guessed that Carping Turtleneck had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Cavern of Secrets might be in her restroom.

Thistleheart prompted him, "Very well. So you found out where the entrance was...breaking too many school rules into pieces along the way, I should say...but how in StarClan's name did you all get out of there alive, Potter?"

So Nightpaw, whose voice was hoarse from all the talking, told them about Roku's timely arrival and about the Sorting Collar giving him the dagger. But then he faltered.

He avoided revealing Pantherclaw's journal...or Leafpaw. She was standing there with her head against her mother's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. _What if they banished her?_ Nightpaw thought in panic. _The journal doesn't work anymore… How could I prove it was Pantherclaw who made her do it all?_

Instinctively, Nightpaw looked at Silverstar, who smiled faintly. The firelight was glancing off his half-moon spectacles, which he wore when he needed to read something.

"What interests me most," Silverstar murmured gently, "is how Red Helmet managed to possess Leafpaw, when my research tells me he is in hiding in the swamps of Louisiana."

Relief...warm, sweeping, glorious relief...swept over Nightpaw. Leafpaw wasn't going to be exiled after all.

"W-what?" Weaseltail gasped in a stunned voice. "You-Know-Who? P-Possess Leafpaw? But she's not...has she?"

"It was this journal," Nightpaw mewed quickly, picking it up and showing it to the leader of the Forest. "Pantherclaw wrote it when he was sixteen."

Silverstar took the diary from Nightpaw and peered keenly at it. He looked down his scarred flat nose at its burnt and soggy pages as he flipped through it. He murmured, "Brilliant. Of course, he was probably the most vivid apprentice the Forest has ever seen." He turned to the Weasley cats, who were looking utterly dazed.

"Very few cats know that Red Helmet was a cat named Pantherclaw Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at the Forest. He disappeared after leaving the school, traveled far and wide, and sank too deeply into the Dark Arts. He banded with the very worst of our kind, endured so much risky magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as a bear we know today as Red Helmet, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected him with the clever handsome cat who was once Head Cat here."

"Silverstar," Hollywhisker asked him. "What's our Leafpaw got to do with...him?"

Leafpaw had been silent, but now she broke down and sobbed, "I-It's his journal! I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year!"

"Leafpaw!" Weaseltail rasped, stunned. "Haven't I taught you anything? What did I always tell you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't find where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show this to me or your mother? With an object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic!"

"I d-didn't know," Leafpaw wept. "I found it inside one of the books Mom got me. I t-thought someone left it in there and forgotten about it..."

Silverstar stepped in with a firm voice, "Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. This has been a terrible ordeal for her, so she shall have no punishment. Older and wiser warriors than she have been deluded by Red Helmet."

He strode over to the door and opened it. "How about some rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate? It always cheers me up," he added, twinkling kindly down at her. "You will find that Poppyleaf is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice. I say the basilisk's victims will wake up any moment."

"So Fawnpaw's gonna be okay!" Redpaw purred brightly.

"Indeed. And there has been no lasting harm done, Leafpaw," Silverstar mewed gently to the American Shorthair.

Hollywhisker gently nudged her daughter out, her eyes troubled. Weaseltail followed them out, still looking deeply shaken about how the demon bear had possessed his kit. Thistleheart looked around to see if her leader was going to follow.

"Thistleheart, my old friend," Silverstar told her thoughtfully, "I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and kindly alert the kitchens?"

"Yes, Silverstar," the Oriental Shorthair mix replied curtly, also moving to the door. "I'll leave you to deal with these two, shall I?"

The silver tabby Persian tom nodded. "Certainly."

Thistleheart followed the Weasley cats out the door, and Nightpaw and Redpaw gazed timidly at their leader. What exactly did Thistleheart mean, deal with them? Surely...were they about to be punished?

"You do realize that in the past few hours, you two have broken more than enough school rules tonight, correct?" Silverstar asked them through narrowed blue eyes.

Nightpaw and Redpaw nodded. "Yes sir."

Silverstar cleared his throat. "And I have said that if you did anything like that again, I would have to banish you two."

"Yes sir," they mewed again.

Silverstar went on, "So it is only fitting that you will receive..."

The two toms flinched.

"...Special Awards for Services to the School," Silverstar purred, smiling and making them stare in awe. "And...I think two hundred points apiece for LionClan. It comes to show we must eat our own words sometimes."

Redpaw went as brightly pink as Gloryhound's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again. Nightpaw was amazed to hear that, but he was also relieved. Leafpaw was out of trouble, and so were they.

Silverstar looked over Redpaw's shoulder at someone behind them. "But one of us seems to be mightily quiet about his part in this adventure. Why so meek, Gloryhound?"

Nightpaw gave a start. He had completely forgotten about the cream-furred Cornish Rex tom. He turned and saw that Gloryhound was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Silverstar addressed him, the confused tomcat looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.

Redpaw mewed, "Silverstar, there was an accident down in the Cavern Of Secrets. I know he was a mentor..."

Gloryhound mewed with surprised, "I'm a mentor? Goodness. I thought I was hopeless, was I?"

"He tried to do a Memory Charm, and my tail-wand backfired," Redpaw explained quietly to his leader.

"Oh, great StarClan above," Silverstar meowed, shaking his head, his long silver mustache fur quivering. "Stabbed by your own dagger, Gloryhound!"

"Dagger?" the creamy brown tom replied dimly. "Haven't got a dagger. He does, though. He'll give you one," he added, pointing his tail at Nightpaw.

Silverstar gave him an odd look before meowing to Redpaw, "Would you mind taking him up to the medicine den? I'd like a few more words with Nightpaw here."

Gloryhound ambled out, looking about him in awe. Redpaw gave Silverstar and Nightpaw a curious look before he closed the door.

Silverstar crossed to one of the chairs by the fire. "Sit down, Nightpaw," he meowed.

Nightpaw padded over to the fireplace and sat down, feeling unaccountably nervous.

"First, I would like to thank you," Silverstar began, his blue eyes flashing again. "You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Cavern of Secrets. Nothing but that could have summoned Roku to you."

He stroked said phoenix, who had fluttered down onto his forepaws and cuddled next to him like a cat against its owner's leg. Nightpaw grinned awkwardly as Silverstar watched him.

Silverstar went on, "And you also met Pantherclaw Riddle. I imagine he was very interested in you."

Suddenly, something that was nagging at Nightpaw's brain came tumbling out of his mouth.

"Silverstar, Pantherclaw told me I was like him. Strange likenesses, he said..."

"He did?" the Persian cat meowed, looking thoughtfully at Nightpaw from under his thick silver eyebrows. "And what do you think, Nightpaw?"

Loudly, he yowled, "I'm not like him! I mean, I'm...in LionClan. I'm..."

But he fell still, a prowling doubt rising in his mind.

"Silverstar," he started again after a moment. "The Sorting Collar told me I would've done well in ViperClan. Everyone thought I was Viper's heir for a while. Because I speak Serpustongue."

"You _can_ speak the language, Nightpaw," Silverstar meowed calmly, "because Red Helmet, the last living descendant of Viper Slytherin, can speak Serpustongue. Unless I'm mistaken, he must have shifted some of his powers to you the night he gave you that scar and killed your parents. Not something he wanted to do, I'm sure."

Nightpaw was shocked. "Red Helmet...put some of himself in me?"

"It seems so."

"So I _should_ be a ViperClan cat," Nightpaw rasped, looking urgently at Silverstar in the face. "The Sorting Collar could see Viper's power in me, and it..."

"Put you in LionClan," his leader finished calmly. "Listen, Nightpaw. You have many qualities Viper Slytherin prized in his select cats. His very rare gift of language, ingenuity, resolve, and a certain disregard for the rules," he chuckled, his mustache fur quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Collar placed you in LionClan. You know why. Think."

Defeated, Nightpaw admitted, "It put me in LionClan because I asked not to go in ViperClan."

Smiling, Silverstar purred, "Yes. That is what makes you different from Pantherclaw. It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices." Nightpaw sat motionless in his chair, stunned as Silverstar went on, "If you want proof that you belong in LionClan, I suggest you look more closely at this."

Silverstar padded over to and leaped onto his desk, picked up the blood-stained silver dagger in his jaws, and handed it to Nightpaw. Dully, the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.

_Lion Gryffindor_

"Only a true LionClan cat could have pulled that out of the collar. You are indeed the truest LionClan cat I have seen this year, Nightpaw," Silverstar told him simply.

For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Silverstar pulled open one of the drawers in his desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

He explained, "What you need right now is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast while I write to Alcatraz; we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an ad for the Daily Warrior too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts mentor. Oh dear, we do seem to run out of them, don't we? You may go, Nightpaw."

Nightpaw got up and crossed to the door. But he had just reached his paw out for the door handle when the door burst open so violently it bounced back off the wall. The black tom stumbled back to see who had so abruptly burst into the office.

Blizzardclaw was standing there, fury in his face. And cowering behind him, heavily wrapped in bandages, was _Bobby_. Nightpaw had heard from earlier that Bobby might have been the house-lemur of the Malfoys.

_But he is!_

"Good evening, Blizzardclaw," Silverstar purred pleasantly.

Blizzardclaw nearly knocked Nightpaw to the side as he hurried into the room. Bobby darted in after him, bending at the hem of his cape, a look of hopeless terror on his face. Now after having been injured or getting into trouble because of the flying lemur, Nightpaw felt bad for him.

The winged lemur was carrying a stained rag, with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Blizzardclaw's face. Apparently the black-&-silver tabby tom had set out in a great hurry, for not only was his face half-polished, but his usually sleek fur was untidy. Ignoring the lemur bobbing ruefully around his ankles, he fixed his cold gray eyes upon Silverstar.

"How dare you return," he hissed softly. "The councils suspended you, but you still decided to return to the Forest."

Smiling despite the hostile act, Silverstar replied, "You see, the other eleven councils wrote to me today. It was something like being caught in a blizzard of owls. They heard that Weaseltail Weasley's daughter was killed and wanted me back at once. They seemed to think I was the best cat for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me too. Several of these stories included you blackmailing families into suspending me or you would curse their families."

Blizzardclaw went pale, but his eyes were still slits of fury. "The culprit has been identified, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Well? Who?" Blizzardclaw spat.

Silverstar replied, "Red Helmet."

Blizzardclaw gave a snort.

"But this time, he acted through somebody else," Silverstar went on. "By means of this journal." He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching the British Shorthair closely.

Nightpaw, however, was watching Bobby. The winged lemur was doing something very odd. His great orange eyes fixed profoundly on Nightpaw, for he kept pointing at the journal, then at Blizzardclaw. Then he started hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

"Ah," Blizzardclaw mewed slowly.

Still staring Blizzardclaw straight in the eye, Silverstar went on in a level voice, "It was quite clever. If Nightpaw and his friend Redpaw hadn't discovered this book, Leafpaw might have taken all the blame. No one would ever prove she hadn't acted on her own free will."

Blizzardclaw said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike, but his ears were flattening.

"And imagine," Silverstar continued, "what might have happened then. The Weasley cats are one of our most noticeable pure-bred families. Imagine the effect it would perhaps Weaseltail and his Kittypet Protection Act if his own daughter was found attacking and killing kittypet-born cats. It's a good thing this journal was exposed, and Pantherclaw's memories wiped from it. And who knows what the penalties might have been otherwise?"

Then Blizzardclaw forced himself to speak. "Ah," he growled again stiffly.

And still, behind his back, Bobby was pointing, first to the journal, then to Blizzardclaw, then punching himself in the head. Now Nightpaw understood. He nodded at Bobby, and the winged lemur backed into a corner, twisting his ears in punishment.

"You really wanna know how Leafpaw got your journal, Mr. Malfoy?" Nightpaw asked the British Shorthair.

Blizzardclaw rounded on him. "I don't know what you're talking about. How should I know how the stupid little kit got hold of it?"

Nightpaw went on, "I think you know what I'm saying. You gave it to her at Dragon Alley that day. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

"You do, do you?" Blizzardclaw hissed, his claws unsheathing. "Why don't you prove it?"

"Oh, no one can do that now," Silverstar meowed, smiling at Nightpaw. "Pantherclaw vanished from the book. On the other paw, Blizzardclaw, I would advise you not to give out any more of Red Helmet's old school things. If any more find their way into good paws, I think Weaseltail will make sure they are traced back to you. Otherwise, the penalties would be...severe."

Blizzardclaw stood for a moment, and Nightpaw distinctly saw his right forepaw twitch as if he was longing to extract his claws. Nightpaw felt his claws sheathed, ready to fight him right there and then. He would never forgive the black-&-silver tabby tom for what he did during the past moons. Never.

Instead, Blizzardclaw spun around and turned to his lemur. "We're going, Bobby!"

He wrenched open the door, and as Bobby came hurrying up to him, he picked Bobby up and tossed him roughly through the doorway. They could hear the winged lemur squealing with pain all the way along the corridor.

Nightpaw stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him...

"Silverstar," he meowed in a hurry. "Can I give the journal back to Mr. Malfoy, please?"

Silverstar nodded. "Yes you may. But please hurry. Remember the banquet."

Nightpaw nodded, grabbed the journal, and dashed out of the office. He could hear Bobby's shrill squeals of pain retreating around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could maybe work, Nightpaw saw his sweater suddenly lying on top of the journal and stuffed it into the book. Then the Maine Coon/British Shorthair mix ran down the dark corridor.

He caught up with them at the top of the stairs. Skidding to a halt, he called, "Mr. Malfoy, I got something for you!"

And he forced the book into Blizzardclaw's outstretched paw.

"What the...?" The dark silver tabby tom rasped. He threw it aside, and glared furiously from the ruined book to Nightpaw. "Your parents were meddlesome fools too, Potter," he snarled. "And mark my words: one day, you'll meet the same sticky end."

He turned to go. "Come, Bobby."

But Bobby didn't move. For Nightpaw whispered to him, "Open it."

The lemur did as he asked by going over to the book and opening it. There was the sweater, lying there all bright green with the LionClan crest on the front. Shock in his orange eyes, Bobby held up Nightpaw's cat sweater; he was looking at it as if it were a priceless treasure.

"Bobby? I said come!" the snarl of Blizzardclaw echoed.

"Master...has given a sweater," the winged lemur said in shock.

Blizzardclaw spun around. "What? But I didn't give..."

In disbelief, Bobby rasped, "Master has presented Bobby with clothes!" With delight, he added, "Bobby is free."

The British Shorthair stood there frozen, staring at the lemur before glaring over at Nightpaw. The black tom, smiling, padded into the moonlight, where an imprint of where the sweater was supposed to be flashed in the light. His plan had worked.

"What?" Blizzardclaw gasped before spitting at Nightpaw, "You've lost me my SERVANT!"

But as the British Shorthair stalked closer to the young black cat, Bobby shouted shrilly, "You shall not harm Nightpaw Potter!"

However, Blizzardclaw didn't listen as he began roaring, _"Avada-"_

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and the evil cat was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and unsheathed his claws, but Bobby raised a long threatening finger at him. The lemur had at last shown his true colors.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing at Blizzardclaw. "You shall not harm Nightpaw Potter. You shall go now."

The winged lemur's former owner had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cape around him and spat, "Well...let us hope Nightpaw Potter will always be there to save the day."

"Don't worry, sir," Nightpaw spat back. "I will be."

Blizzardclaw curled his lip once more into a snarl and hurried out of sight.

"Nightpaw Potter freed Bobby!" the lemur cheered shrilly, gazing up at Nightpaw as moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his eyes. "Nightpaw set Bobby free!"

"No problem, Bobby," purred Nightpaw, smiling. "Just promise me one thing."

Bobby nodded. "Anything, sir!"

Nightpaw meowed, as a bit of a joke, "Never try and save my life again."

The lemur's brown face split suddenly into a wide smile as he nodded. His ears flapped to and fro as he nodded quickly.

"Just a question, though, Bobby," Nightpaw meowed as Bobby pulled on his new sweater with shaking hands. "You told me all this didn't have anything to do with You-Know-Who, right? Well..."

"It was a clue, sir," Bobby said, his eyes widening, as if it was obvious. "'Twas a clue. Before he changed his name, the Dark Bear could be freely named, you know?"

Nightpaw nodded weakly. "Yeah, sure. Hey, I better go. There's a banquet going on soon, and my friend Fawnpaw should be awake by now."

Bobby threw his arms around Nightpaw's neck and hugged him, crying gladly, "Nightpaw Potter is by far greater than Bobby ever knew! Farewell, sir! Until we meet again!"

And with a final loud click and a snap of his fingers, Bobby vanished.

**...**

Nightpaw had been to several Forest feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was still up, and the celebration lasted all through the night. Nightpaw didn't know what the best part, but one was Fawnpaw running toward him, screaming "You solved it! You solved it!" and throwing him into a feline hug.

"And Redpaw," Fawnpaw mewed, letting go of Nightpaw and facing him. Instead of hugging him, she just dipped her head awkwardly to him, mewing, "Thanks again."

Redpaw dipped his head back to her, replying, "Eh, what're friends for?"

Many thing happened that night, like Finchpaw hurrying over to thank Nightpaw and apologize endlessly for suspecting him,or his and Redpaw's four hundred points for LionClan securing the Clan Trophy for the second year running, or Thistleheart standing up to tell them all that the tests had been canceled as a school treat. Silverstar even said that Gloryhound would not return next year, thanks to going away and get his memory back. Many mentors joined in the cheering that greeted this news.

"What a shame," Redpaw replied, eating a vole strudel. "He was starting to grow on me."

The Forest was now back to normal with only small differences: Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("But we've had plenty of practice at that anyway," Redpaw told a rather irate Fawnpaw), and Blizzardclaw was fired as a school governor. Icepaw was no longer strutting around the school as if he owned the place. In contrast, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other paw, Leafpaw was perfectly happy again.

"Leafpaw," Nightpaw mewed, recalling what she was going to tell them earlier, "What did you see Sandthorn doing that he didn't want you to tell anyone?"

"Oh, that," Leafpaw giggled. "Well...he has a mate now."

Nearby, Berrytail, who was horsing around with Cherrynose, pushed his brother aside to see what was going on. Cherrynose got up and padded up to the others.

Leafpaw went on, "It's that RavenClan cat, Lightwhisker Clearwater. That's who he was writing to for the past greenleaf. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them making out, in the cat way, in an empty classroom one day. He was so distraught when she was attacked. You won't tease him about it, will you?" she added anxiously.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Berrytail meowed, who looked like his birthday came early.

"No way," Cherrynose added, snorting.

Nightpaw rolled his eyes before remembering something. So he pulled out his quill and a bit of scroll, turning to his other friends.

"This is what Twolegs call a telephone number," he told Redpaw, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. "I told your dad how to use a cell phone last greenleaf; he'll know. Call me at the Dursley cats', okay? I can't stand another two moons with only Tubby to talk to."

"Your aunt and uncle will be proud of you, right?" Fawnpaw mewed. "When they hear what you did this year?"

Nightpaw snorted. "Proud? You kidding me? All those times I could've died, and I didn't die? They'll be as mad as Hell!"

Suddenly, the oak doors of the Great Hall opened up, making every cat turn to see who it was. There, walking down the lane between LionClan and BadgerClan, was Badgerstripe. The huge black cat looked relieved as he looked up to where Silverstar was sitting at.

Silverstar dipped his head to the black-furred gamekeeper and greeted him, "Welcome back, our old friend."

"Thanks, sir," Badgerstripe returned the greeting. "Sorry I was late. But it weren't easy gettin' outta Alcatraz. The letter sent there was brought over by a ditzy old owl. One named Dodo."

Redpaw turned really red at this.

Looking over at the Golden Trio, Badgerstripe smiled at them and greeted them warmly, "I'd just like ter say that, if it weren't for yeh, Nightpaw, and Redpaw and Fawnpaw of course, I'd be...well, at You-Know-Where At. But I'd like to say...thanks," he added with a smile.

"Well, there's no Forest without you, Badgerstripe," Nightpaw purred, going over to him and giving him a feline hug.

Immediately, Redpaw and Fawnpaw got up and also gave the huge black cat a hug. All the other cats from BadgerClan and RavenClan came over and also gave him a hug, which he returned. But none of the ViperClan cats came over; Icepaw's cronies were going to get up, but their boss pulled them down with a hiss.

Around them, all the other mentors, even if Brokenfang did it reluctantly, began clapping for him. Silverstar was the one giving the loudest clapping, his bright blue eyes filled with pride and his silver tabby pelt glowing white in the candlelight. The Forest was now safe, missing cats were now found, and the Cavern of Secrets was closed forever.

This was one night the cats of the Forest would never forget.

_The End_

**...**

**AvatarCat11: There we go! That's the end of this book! You guys excited about it?**

**Harry: You bet! It's been months since this began! Can we say the review, preview for the next book, and special thanks?**

**Ron: Yeah, can we?**

**Hermione: (Rolls her eyes playfully) Boys...**

**AvatarCat11: Sure thing!**

**Harry: Thanks, mate. (To the readers) Anyone who reviews this chapter or the entire story will receive a virtual plush doll of their favorite Harry Potter character in Nightfang form. Or they can receive virtual Christmas cookies. And remember: flames will be used for heating up a Christmas ham.**

**Ron: That's making me hungry right now. But here's the preview for Nightfang Potter And The Prisoner Of Alcatraz:**

**Preview: For twelve long years, the dreadful fortress of Second Alcatraz off the coast of southern Alaska held an infamous prisoner named Padfoot Black. Convicted of murdering thirteen Twolegs with a single attack, he was said to be the supposed heir of the Dark Bear, Red Helmet.**

**Now he has escaped, leaving only two clues for where he is headed: new warrior Nightfang Potter's defeat of You-Know-Who was Black's ruin as well. And the guards of Alcatraz even heard him mutter in his sleep, "He's at the Forest... He's at the Forest..."**

**Nightfang Potter is not safe, not even in the walls of his island school and with his friends. Because on top of it all in third year, there may be a traitor, waiting to strike.**

**Hermione: And I'll say the special thanks for those who reviewed this story so far:**

_**Special thanks to: Stormfang12, snowwhistle, Hollywhisper, Lightningpaw, Ice. And Fire, MazimumRideFangLover97, Whiteclaw's girl, WildCroconaw, and LarkspiritofForestClan**_

**Everyone: SEE YA NEXT TIME!**


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